


The Athenians

by Faldon113



Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-26 13:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9899159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faldon113/pseuds/Faldon113
Summary: 75 Spartans were augmented. 33 survived, 12 mutated, and 30 died. The fallen Spartans were placed in coffins and shot into space...or were they? Rumors circulate that Dr. Halsey had a plan for the dead Spartans, but it was never realized. Why? Because of morals? Because of time? Or maybe, just maybe, because she didn't have them anymore? If that's the case......What happened to them?





	1. The Target

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty then, let's get this show on the road. Couple things to say right off the bat.  
> 1) This story was inspired by my other story, To Be A Spartan. Basically, I got tired of limiting myself to canon Halo and this thing popped into existence. As such, there are some characters that are shared between the stories. However, there is no need to have read TBAS before this story, or ever, really. This is literally just me taking my OC and putting her in a new world where she can do whatever the hell she wants.  
> 2) As the story goes on, I will be mentioning things that are not based in actual science. I know, I know, this is Halo, why would I bother mentioning that? Short answer; I've already received several very cruel messages from FanFiction readers about how my Athenians aren't realistic because I gave them one advantage over the Spartans. If this bothers you, I have one thing to say. To. Fucking. Bad. This is a science FICTION world and I can do what I want.  
> 3) This story has been entirely planned out, though not entirely written, so I'm not sure exactly how long it will be. I am, however, always open to thoughts and opinions that are communicated in a respectful manner, even negative ones. Flame me and I will roast you back with maximum prejudice.  
> Alright, thank you for your time. I hope you enjoy the story.

****The Target** **

**Time: 1432\**

**June 19, 2536\**

**Greydowns**

 

There was a cramp forming in the small of her back, but it was a minor nuisance and was noted before being soundly ignored. She still had several minutes before her targets would arrive, thus there was no need to adjust. So despite the rain that was pouring over her, the soldier stayed still. Her breathing was slow and even, keeping her heart rate low and controlled. The only movement she allowed was a slight tensing and relaxing of arm and leg muscles. After all, she had to be ready to move at any moment, even if she did not anticipate the need to do so.

" _ _Targets are 3.2 kilometers out,__ " a calm voice said in her ear, barely holding on to a faded British accent. " _ _Speed constant.__ " Four minutes then. More than enough time to work out the kinks. With slow, controlled movements, the soldier started stretching without actually moving much at all. Her body remained fully concealed by the bare shadow of the boulder she was crouched behind. With the dull grey suit she wore, she knew she was indistinguishable from the stones around her. It was the perfect camouflage, and she didn't trust it at all. " _ _1.6 kilometers.__ "

Though her breathing did not change, the soldier could feel her heart rate begin to pick up. She knew her body was starting to produce the chemicals she would need in a couple minutes. Norepinephrine, adrenaline, and endorphins, just to name a few. Her work was hard and dangerous, but that didn't change the fact that she got a strange joy out of it. They all did. It was the only reason they stayed. " _ _Thirty seconds.__ "

She was ready.

The transports rolled around the curve of the canyon. Rocks nearby started vibrating, indicating just how loud the vehicles were, but the soldier remained unconcerned. There was a reason she'd locked her helmet from outside noises after all. She let the front vehicles pass easily; her targets were further in for protection. It was a good strategy, she had to admit. They were ready for most types of attacks, but they'd failed to anticipate all. However, everything depended on timing and secrecy, so she waited. Even as the stones beneath her started to shift, she remained unmoving. It wasn't time yet.

Her target vehicle was easy to spot when it came around the corner at last. By trying to make it less obvious which transport held the important people, the enemy had actually done the opposite. The occupants inside might as well have been wearing neon signs. But still, the soldier did not move. She had one chance, and there was no room for error. Her backup was further down the canyon and would succeed if she failed, but she was the one with the element of surprise. Besides, it was a mark of pride to never need her backup. So she waited, calm and patient, until the exact moment she needed.

From total stillness to a blur of movement only took a fraction of a second, and then the soldier was on the vehicle. She saw the driver's eyes widen for a split second as he realized the danger, and then there was only a flash of crimson and the scent of iron as she slid through the open window. Feeling each second tick by as a contained eternity, the soldier swung over the front seats, rolling neatly into the back. Her knives were ready long before the targets understood what was happening, and three were dead in the time it took the last to draw his gun. He didn't even manage to raise it before his throat was slit, the soldier dodging the red spray with the ease of practice.

By the time the vehicle swerved off the small road, not given any new directions from the dead driver, the soldier was out the other window and sprinting up the rocky slope. She paused only once, in the shadow of a new boulder, to observe. Several transports had come to a screeching halt and she could see the enemy swarming about, trying to figure out what had happened. Someone crawled into the machine she had just left and must have confirmed the deaths because there was a sudden increase in yelling and frantic searching. However, none were looking in her direction. They didn't believe someone could make it up a cliff face that fast.

She'd never said they were smart.

"Targets neutralized," she said evenly into the mic, knowing her team would hear. "Coming back." There were two subdued clicks, their acknowledgment signal, and then all was silent again. Despite her words, the soldier stayed still a moment more, looking up at the few stars visible through cloud breaks. She could feel the hum of victory under her skin, but there was also an abstract sadness. It always came after a successful mission, and she wasn't sure what it was.

Not that it mattered; it was only a minor nuisance. So she noted it before ignoring the feeling and continuing up the cliff, leaving the enemy to wonder behind her. "Command, this is Red One. Mission success." Because it was always a success, no matter how much of a failure she felt.

Reaching the top of the canyon, the soldier swung herself over the rim, hidden within an old thicket. She paused, senses straining for the slightest noise or movement. Other than the chaos she'd left behind her, there was nothing. However, her suit would stand out painfully in the dark forest she was faced with, necessitating a quick adjustment to the shields. In the span of a heartbeat, her armor had shifted color to a darker grey and she was moving again. Slipping past the giant trees, she became little more than a ghost, barely visible through the mist she used like a cloak. Everything was still and silent; the forest completely unaware of the monsters that had been crawling along beside it. Just one of the many reasons the soldier found herself more relaxed in nature. Ancient trees and dark waters didn't care about what the lifeforms traveling through and around them did. They accepted everything without fuss. If only the lifeforms could do that as well.

As the trees began to thin, she slowed down, moving cautiously. Command should have sent a ship for extraction, but the enemy could have patrols out already. No matter how little she thought of them, they __were__ a competent force. It would not be a good idea to underestimate them. However, when she finally came to the edge of the forest, she could see the waiting craft and knew it was hers. That did not prevent her from pausing just within the shadows as she sensed she was alone. Her team had further to travel, so it was logical that she reach the extraction point first. It also gave her the time to bring her heart rate back down as the chemicals in her body faded away. In moments like this, there was no need for joy or hyper focus.

The soldier didn't see as her team arrived through the mist, but she felt the change in the air that signaled their presence. It was like a light surge of electricity under her skin was finally fading away and she could rest at long last. It took a fraction of a moment for her partners to come up beside her before the three stepped out of their cover in sync. They could all see the waiting soldiers jump and knew that several were cursing, but they paid them no mind. Instead, the small team boarded the dropship silently and settled into their seats, not twitching as the rest of the men joined. There were a couple half-hearted attempts by the larger group to get the silent soldiers to talk, but they were wasted and the trio was eventually ignored as the ship left the ground and started up to leave the atmosphere. After a couple quiet moments, the extraction soldiers began talking softly amongst themselves, as most humans were wont to do to fill time.

What the common soldiers were unaware of was the entire silent conversation that had been going on since the trio had been within sight of each other. To the untrained mind, this silent language was nothing more than the shifting of limbs and puffs of air, but to the small team, it was an entire and complex dialog. One they had perfected back in training. It was through this mode of communication that they compared notes and updated each other on their personal status. The female soldier calmly took a scolding from the partner across from her when she admitted to twisting her ankle during the run, but the other soldiers on the ship were aware only of a sigh and a rolling of shoulders that could be considered a shrug. If they only knew what was really happening, they would have likely been terrified.

As the dropship approached the waiting vessel in orbit, the trio went completely still, having no need for continued conversation. Everything that had needed to be said had been, so they all did what their people did best. They waited. Throughout the landing, no matter how rough the ship moved, they sat calmly, hands folded neatly in their laps and backs perfectly straight. It was so unnerving, the other soldiers nearly ran off the dropship when the hatch opened. By contrast, the small team rose gracefully and sedately disembarked, completely unaffected by the chaos around them. They drew up short, though, when an officer stepped towards them and commanded their attention. He was only a Captain, so there was no need to salute, but they did watch him through opaque helmets and noted that he was clearly unnerved.

"Admiral Hoskins sends his regards and wishes me to tell you, 'Good work,'" the officer managed to say, a look of extreme concentration on his face. "The Admiral is currently occupied in a meeting, so he has ordered you back to your quarters. He will take the report at a later time." The female soldier nodded before calmly walking away, knowing he was done despite not being properly dismissed. Though she could hear a little bit of sputtering behind her as her team followed, there was no actual objection, so she put it from her mind.

Weaving through the familiar halls, the soldiers ignored the stares they were subjected to, knowing it would take the crew a while yet to get used to their presence. They'd only been assigned to the ship for two weeks, after all. In time, they'd be able to move through completely ignored, just the way they liked it. Until then, there was nothing they could do to put the soldiers at ease, so they didn't try. No sense wasting energy.

After taking a lift to the third deck and approaching the door to their assigned quarters, the female soldier felt a frown appear on her face. She felt almost...happy. As though the room she was returning to was anything more than a space with a bed to sleep on and a desk to write reports on. After so short a time, surely she wasn't getting attached. That would lead only to trouble, and she couldn't afford to take on any more issues than she already had. If the feeling didn't resolve itself soon, she'd have to take actions to end it herself.

Those thoughts faded away as she stepped through the automatic door and spotted the soldiers waiting for the team. A tired smile crossed her face as Purple, Pink, and Grey instantly perked up, face carefully neutral until the entire team had entered and the door had slid shut. Only when they were shielded from others did the waiting soldiers give soft smiles of welcome. They waited patiently for the trio to remove their own helmets before quietly saying, "Welcome back."

Taking a deep breath of ship air, distantly wondering how it could taste even staler than the air from her suit, the female nodded. "Good to be back." She knew her teammates were giving their own greetings as she walked over to the bed and gratefully sat down, finally allowing herself to feel the slight pain in her ankle. It wasn't severe enough to inform the doctor, but she knew she'd need to wrap it soon to avoid further injury.

The small group lapsed back into their silent language as the returning team reported to their friends. There was some light-hearted ribbing for the injury, but they were all relaxed and open. It was a state they were rarely in anymore, with the war growing more severe every day. A war against a single enemy was bad enough, but to have two distinct groups to fight against made the entire affair much worse. They had little time to rest, and less time to be open. Deep down, they all ached for the way their lives had been, but there was no sense in wishing for what could not be, so no one spoke of the past.

When the summons light clicked on, the female soldier rose back to her feet and replaced her helmet before smoothly leaving the room, signaling for her team to stay. The Admiral would have no questions for them, so it was pointless to drag them through the halls to be ignored. Besides, she could move faster when alone. So she wove through the halls, effortlessly avoiding other soldiers, both in terms of physical contact and any looks she might have been given. It was all so mundane, she wasn't entirely sure how she could stand it.

Reaching the fifth deck, at last, she made her way to the Admiral's office, feeling the electricity under her skin again. It always appeared when she was near the man, and she didn't know why. Sometimes she thought it was trying to warn her of danger, but the thought made no sense. How could she be in danger with the man that had basically raised her?

The door slid open with a gentle hiss, revealing an office that really was overly elegant. There was no officer to be seen, but he would arrive in time, so the soldier entered and stood calmly at ease. She knew this was all a test, but she hadn't failed since she was a child, and she wasn't about to start again. Still, it took a considerable amount of control not to react when a hand suddenly landed hard on her shoulder. "Thank you for coming so promptly, Team Leader," the Admiral said as he came around her, close enough she could feel his body heat through her armor. "I trust the mission went off without a hitch."

"As always, Admiral." She kept her gaze straight ahead, knowing what would happen if she moved. Not all of her scars came from battle, after all.

"Excellent," the older man sighed as he sat down in his obscenely comfortable chair. His hair had more grey than the first time they'd met, and there were more wrinkles upon his face, but his eyes were just as blue and cold as she remembered. Despite not being as tall or muscled as her, he was the one human she actually feared. "It's a shame the convoy didn't hold Hood, but it's not your fault that he changed his schedule. The loss of his son-in-law and his ONI guards will have to be a sufficient blow." She said nothing, ignoring the strange hitch in her breathing at the statement. "Hopefully, the old coot will be wracked with grief enough to stall the UNSC chain-of-command. You've done well, Athenian."

"Thank you, Admiral," she replied evenly. There was a tremor in her hands that she couldn't explain when she thought about her target. Her blade had not wavered when she slit his throat, but something deep inside her, something she could never name and rarely felt, had screamed. Some of her soldiers had the same sensation on occasion, but they could all ignore it. For reasons no one could understand, she could not. The more she repressed the feeling, the more it showed in physical ways. She had enough control to not break down before a commanding officer, but she'd have to let it out soon or she'd be reduced to a shaking mess.

"How is Red Team doing?" Hoskins inquired, though it was clear he wasn't truly interested. If he had not been placed in command over the Athenians, he wouldn't have asked at all.

"We remain combat ready," was the calm answer.

"Perfect. Return to your quarters; the Insurrection has no need for your men at the moment." Saluting sharply, the soldier spun on her heels and left, slipping past the doors that didn't appear to be open enough for passage. The tremor had moved into her arms, so she released a little of her control to speed walk through the crowded halls. Training alone kept her from outright running, despite knowing it would get her to her quarters within seconds. Such a slight reprieve was not worth the lecture she would receive for endangering her 'fellow soldiers'. Instead, she exercised what little restraint she'd maintained to travel the halls and lifts.

Seeing the door to her room finally come into view, the soldier released the smallest sigh of relief she could, having to stop herself from flicking right over. None of the surrounding soldiers realized just how much danger they were truly in, walking by a barely controlled Athenian, and that's how she wanted it. The looks and distrust her men were already subjected to were bad enough. If what little trust there was, was broken, the already tense situation would blow up in everyone's faces.

Her team was waiting when she finally stepped into the room, in full armor with helmets replaced, anticipating a new mission. The other teams were long gone, and the sight allowed a knot of nerves to untie in her chest. There wasn't a single Athenian she did not care for, but they weren't her team and she couldn't really deal with any of them just then. "We're to stand down until further notice," she said simply, removing the helmet once more. This time, she proceeded to dismantle the rest of the armor as well, prompting her partners to follow suit. Even knowing what they both looked like, it was a special joy to see their faces revealed. The sight always soothed a primal fear that she had, and they admitted to feeling the same.

"We need more dye," the taller partner smirked, reaching out to brush the bright red streak in the female soldier's hair. "You're fading."

"You're not doing much better," she chuckled, tugging on his darker bangs. "You need a trim, too." He only laughed, gently batting her away so he could finish disarming himself. The smaller partner was already free of his armor and settling onto his bunk, giving them both looks of fond exasperation. Though they all knew he wasn't tired, he was well aware of the fact that they were. After all, they'd been the ones to run all over the planet to track down the target and kill him. He'd simply sat in a computer nest and gave directions. So there was no complaint as the taller Athenians prepared for sleep. If nothing else, he'd read quietly.

Climbing onto her top bunk, the female soldier paused long enough to wrap her injured ankle before settling down to meditate. Whether she would sleep or not was up in the air, but meditation would help her end the tremors that were slowly growing worse. Hopefully, she'd get control before Red Team was summoned again.

However, as the lights turned off and the room was plunged into darkness, the soldier paused. She knew the room was secure and that no one outside could hear, but her throat still closed against the words she wanted to say. The Athenians didn't have very many secrets; they weren't allowed to keep much from their trainers. What little they had was guarded fiercely, and as Team Leader, she was more protective than most. Especially in regards to the memories. Every officer and trainer they'd ever had kept insisting that the soldiers had no memories from before they woke in their training base, and that was nearly true. No Athenian knew where they'd come from, or what the first few years of their lives had been like. All they knew was the Insurrection and war.

Except...it wasn't.

Every Athenian had knowledge they couldn't explain. Foods they liked, but had never eaten. Training they utilized, but never received. Some have faces in their minds, foreign words on their tongues, dreams they can't fully remember. It varied from soldier to soldier, and was never the same, except for one thing. A name. The Insurrection knew them only by numbers, but they knew their names, and it was the secret they valued and protected the most. So yes, the soldier's throat rebelled when those forbidden words tried to come out, but she pushed them out regardless because nothing mattered more than her teammates. "Goodnight Kenton, Owen." Her eyes slid closed as her lips pulled back into a smile at the warmly whispered response.

"Goodnight, Klare."

 


	2. The Mission

****The Mission** **

Time: 1942/

July 21, 2536/

Aboard the __USF Pearl Harbor__

"Team Leader, thank you for coming," Admiral Hoskins grunted as Klare stepped into his office. She saluted sharply, but he didn't even look up before irritably waving it away. His disinterest was probably a good thing, as the Athenian couldn't fully cover up her confusion or unease about the situation. Summons to report to her training instructor were far from rare, but receiving orders to arrive without her armor was...unusual. Especially as it had never happened before.

The unexpected orders were paling, though, in comparison to the state of the Admiral's office. For as long as she could remember, the young soldier had never seen the man out of sorts. He was the one everyone knew they could depend on to be calm and in control at all times, no matter the situation. To see his office resembling a battlefield between paper-happy secretaries was unsettling. There were papers and maps scattered __everywhere__! In fact, one of her feet was firmly planted on the floor while the other was precariously perched atop a map of Reach's main continent. She really wasn't sure whether to laugh or run away screaming.

"You had orders for me, sir?" the Athenian ventured hesitantly when the older human lapsed into silence. He looked up sharply, eyes wide in a way that made it look like he'd forgotten she was there. That couldn't possibly be a good sign.

"Ah, Team Leader, of course," Hoskins said distractedly, putting the folder he had been flipping through onto his desk. "My apologies," yeah right, "for the unusual summons, but this mission is beyond top secret and I don't want to broadcast Athenian involvement." That was equal parts reassuring and worrisome. Klare was no stranger to classified missions; her entire life was a closely guarded secret. But keeping information from other Insurrectionists was new. "A situation is developing that requires our immediate attention."

Barely aware of what she was doing, the soldier relaxed. The circumstances might be a bit outside the ordinary, but a mission was a mission and exactly what she'd been created for. So long as she had that base, she'd be fine. "Red Team is deploying, then?" Because surely he'd have summoned a member of another team if Red hadn't been assigned the mission. As Team Leader, she had to be kept up-to-date with where all of her teams were stationed, but she was rarely the only one informed.

"This mission is beyond one team," the Admiral answered sharply, eyes sharp as he glared and she stiffened once more. Beyond one team? How could that be? In the five years the Athenians had been fighting, they'd never needed more than one to get the job done. "Your mission last month had the desired effect; Admiral Hood was badly shaken by the loss of his son-in-law and was incapable of making competent decisions. That's fading a bit now, but his family is still grieving." Picking up a photo from the pile of papers, he tossed it towards the thoroughly confused Athenian. She caught it easily, looking down at a face she'd remembered from files. "That is Admiral Margret Parangosky, head of ONI and Admiral Hood's wife. She's been ensconced on Reach for several decades now, rarely leaving the safety of the planet. However, she is now traveling to Verent to stay with her daughter and granddaughter, helping them as they grieve. It's the perfect chance to take her out."

"I understand, sir," Klare said easily, and she did. The death of Parangosky would be a huge blow for the UNSC and a boost for the Insurrection, but it wouldn't be easy. Despite her age, the officer was known for her harshness and a disturbing habit of killing anyone that crossed her. Even Athenians would struggle with this one, but it was still one target, so why multiple teams?

"There're rumors of an elite military team that will be escorting the Admiral," Hoskins continued with an angry grumble. "No one knows who this unit is, but we've lost several missions to them. I think they're the same group that managed to kidnap Colonel Watts a few years ago, but there's no evidence. Of anything, really; we can't even confirm that they exist. If there's a chance that they are real and are that good, I will not risk sending only one team. This is an opportunity that may never come again and we can't pass it up. Choose three other teams and bring them in on the mission, Team Leader. Your transport leaves in thirty minutes." Not bothering with a verbal response, the soldier snapped a salute and spun away the second she was dismissed. Her mind was racing, trying to fully understand what was being asked of her. Assassin missions were easy, but she wasn't entirely sure different teams __could__ work together on a single mission. There was a reason they'd split up, after all.

However, orders were orders, so she typed a couple commands into the small computer on her wrist, calling the teams she'd selected together in the launch bay. Remembering what else the Admiral had told her, she made sure to include that no one was to wear their armor; it was to be packed and carried along. It was because of that order, she was sure, that it took her an entire minute to get affirmative replies.

Despite feeling naked and vulnerable, Klare couldn't deny that the lack of armor made a huge difference. The halls of the ship were as crowded as usual, but this was the first time she'd actually __felt__ the press of humanity. No one was parting to let her through, no one was looking at her, no one thought for a single moment that she was anything other than a normal soldier like them. The sensation was equal parts amazing and aggravating. She'd never been fond of the looks of fear and distrust the Athenians received, but this disregard was bothering her too. Maybe she was just hard to please, though she didn't think so. Give her a smooth running mission or a new shiny weapon and she was as happy as could be.

Taking a moment to duck into her room to pack, the redhead was happy to note that her teammates were already gone, their mission packs absent. She never doubted that her men would always jump to follow her orders, but it was nice to see proof of it every now and again.

Grabbing everything she'd need, Klare quickly put her weapons and supplies into her own mission pack before storing her armor in the carrying box it had come in. Every Athenian still had the boxes, but they'd never been used before and it took a moment to remember how to pack everything back in. Making a mental note to have everyone practice packing the armor, she finally managed to get the box closed on her third attempt. Slinging the pack over her shoulder, the redhead picked the box up easily and left the room, merging back into the press of soldiers outside. This time, she got a little bit of room, though that was more because of the cumbersome items she was loaded down with. That being said, she wasn't about to pass up on the extra breathing room.

By the time she'd reached the launch bay, the Athenian could feel the slightest of tremors in her arms from the weight of the box and armor. The feeling irked her, though she couldn't figure out why, exactly. She and her men were built for speed, not strength, but signs of weakness always bothered all of them, despite still being stronger than 99% of the people around them. Their training masters insisted it was because they were trained to think they were the best and didn't like reminders that that wasn't true, but Klare disagreed. These feelings felt more like those insubstantial memories that they had. The memories that shouldn't exist.

Spotting the Pelican that was always on reserve for the Athenians, the redhead increased her speed a touch so that she was trotting over, leaving the established stream of humanity behind. There were no signs of her men around the dropship, so she knew they had to be waiting inside. Hopefully, they were resisting the temptation to put their armor on. Admiral Hoskins was so determined to keep their involvement quiet, he would be furious if they blew their cover because they didn't like being 'naked'. However, when she came around the side of the ship and looked in, she was met with eleven calm, if confused, faces.

"Team Leader," Owen greeted, a touch of a smile on his lips. Of all the Athenians, he was by far her closest friend, and he wasn't afraid to take advantage of that whenever and however he could. The other Athenians were silent as Klare came aboard, but they all had pleased expressions. Or, at least, they had what she recognized as pleased expressions. Anyone else would have seen perfectly neutral faces.

"135," she replied, feeling a curl of disgust in her chest. She hated referring to her men by numbers, but it was the only way that was safe. If the Insurrection learned of their names, they'd realize that they had memories too. That was unacceptable. "Everything secure?"

"Yes, Team Leader," one of the other Athenians answered, tugging lightly on his blue bangs in a silent signal that they were not alone. With the cockpit closed off, that must mean the pilot was still working. Nodding her thanks for the warning, Klare stowed her pack and box under the seat she always took, closest to the cockpit. She knew her soldiers had questions, but it was too risky to explain everything with a non-Athenian so close. Instead, she signaled that she would give the mission debrief once they'd been dropped. It wasn't what the others wanted to hear, but they accepted her decision with a philosophical shrug and huff.

As she settled into her seat and strapped in, the redhead had a moment of doubt. On the move, these four teams had seemed like the best choices for the mission. Grey Team, the best at infiltration. If they were going to hit Parangosky, it would have to be when she felt safe, which meant breaking into her turf. Blue Team, the best at erasing evidence. In no way could the UNSC learn that the Athenians existed at all, so they'd need to get rid of everything that gave away their existence. Pink Team, hands down the fastest. They'd be the group to get in, kill the Admiral, and get out before anyone realized what was happening. And, of course, Red Team, her own group. The three of them didn't really excel in any area, but they could fill in any gap the others left behind. In theory and on paper, they were the four best teams for this mission.

But would it work? Grey Team was easily the most stubborn team; even Klare could barely keep control of them. Blue Team always felt inadequate and was prone to fits of unneeded apologies. Pink Team had no patience to speak of, and Red Team had a superiority complex that could rival ONI. There was no way to determine if they would be able to work together. Being friends didn't necessarily mean they were compatible on missions. There was no time to change, though, and everyone seemed to be behaving, so she settled for a brief hope that they'd be able to pull through this one, before focusing on the details of the mission. With any luck, she'd have a plan worked out by the time they'd reached Verent.

The dropship was silent as they traveled, though Klare was sharply aware of just how much her soldiers were communicating. None of them were comfortable with the situation, and she couldn't blame them at all. The entire mission was rubbing her the wrong way. Her logical mind insisted she was simply not underestimating her opponents; Parangosky was easily the most dangerous person the Athenians had ever faced. However, that tiny voice in her chest disagreed. There was something bigger going on here that she needed to figure out. The lives of her soldiers could depend on it.

" _ _Approaching the planet Verent__ _,_ " the pilot suddenly said over the dropship's speakers. The sound startled the redhead; she'd been so busy planning, she'd failed to pay attention to their travel. " _ _ETA to LZ is twenty minutes.__ " Barely enough time to get her armor on, but Klare had no one to blame but herself. Attempting to hide how lost in thought she had been, she got up quickly and pulled out the box of armor from under her seat. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the other Athenians were already armored up, and she winced. She couldn't afford to be that out of it. Especially as it only ever resulted in her team giving her looks of worry.

"We're landing twenty miles from our target," she said shortly, donning the armor with the ease of practice. "This is a long-term mission; secrecy is valued above speed. High-risk target as well, so don't get cocky."

" _ _Yes, Team Leader,__ " eleven voices chimed in unison. If any of them were wondering what they were doing together, no one brought it up. It was debatable if that was a good sign or not.

" _ _Team Leader,__ " the female from Pink Team called quietly, face hidden behind her helmet. " _ _You're shaking.__ " Looking down at her hand, Klare realized she was right. There was a slight tremor running through her body; one she hadn't noticed. If she'd needed a more obvious reason to abandon the mission, she had it, but quitting wasn't an option. She'd have to push through whatever this unknown issue was.

"It's nothing," she said shortly, making a fist to stop the slight movement. "Focus. We'll be hitting the ground at a run." No one responded, though they all pulled their packs out of storage. Klare was well aware that Kenton and Owen were watching her worriedly, but she ignored them as she felt the last of her armor click into place. The shields were active by the time she got to her feet, though she did wonder if the techs had managed to fix the generator. For the last few months, her shields had been useless for anything other than shifting color to help her blend in. Against a possibly elite enemy she didn't know, that wasn't going to be enough.

" _ _ETA to LZ is four minutes,__ " the pilot called as the interior lights switched to red. Every Athenian got to their feet, stretching quietly so they didn't injure themselves during the coming run. Verent was well known for its forests, which meant there were half a million objects for them to trip over as they moved. Hardly ideal, but it wasn't like there was much they could do about it.

"Blue, take to the trees," Klare ordered as she finally grabbed her pack and moved to the rear of the dropship. "I want you high and hidden. Pink, on the left, two-hundred yards out; you're forward guard. Grey, on the right, two hundred yards behind. Red, we're in the middle. Rough heading of Mt Tamblin; we'll meet six miles east of the city of Edenburg. Acknowledge." Eleven lights blinked on her HUD. Other soldiers might have needed more detailed orders, but she knew not to press too far. Her men thrived while being independent. If she took that away, she'd be hurting them more than helping.

Their pilot must have had some experience with Athenians because the aft hatch slid open before the dropship had touched the ground. With such a blatant invitation, the young soldiers jumped, not caring that they were still about a hundred meters in the air. By the time the Pelican had finally touched down, the twelve soldiers were long gone.

Weaving through the trees, Klare felt a strange sense of...comfort. The movements went far beyond familiar and were almost creeping into the realm of natural. Instinct. Home. But that was absurd; she really needed to get a handle on these residual memories. Ever since that assassination in the canyon, these feelings had been attacking her nearly every day.

" _ _We going to get an explanation for the cramped ride anytime soon?__ " a voice drawled in her ear, probably sounding insubordinate to anyone other than Klare. The redhead, however, heard the worried note in the soldier's voice that indicated his true feelings. None of her men were idiots; they knew something big had to be happening to get them all working together.

"Admiral Parangosky is on Verent," she answered succinctly, sidestepping a hidden pit. From the size of the disturbed ground, she could make two assumptions. First, the people of the area were skilled hunters. Second, the animals they hunted were massive. "She's here to help her daughter and granddaughter grieve."

" _ _More like convincing them to move to Reach,__ " another voice muttered, a thread of disgust layered inside the words. " _ _Why else would she have waited this long? Let them get passed most of the anger and realize that they're at risk too.__ " Personally, the redhead agreed, but she kept silent on the subject. There was no need to guess without facts.

"It doesn't matter," she cut in. "The point is that she is here with minimal security and living in a structure that can only be secured so far. She is here for a week; if her schedule is accurate, she landed three hours ago. We're to take her out with minimal contact with any other UNSC forces. No evidence is to be left behind; the UNSC is still unaware that we exist and I will not accept that changing because we got sloppy."

" _ _We know, Team Leader, but why four teams?__ " Owen asked, honest confusion in his voice and no attempts at hiding it. " _ _We've__ never __needed more than one team. What's changed?__ "

"Admiral Hoskins heard rumors about an elite team that will be traveling with Parangosky," she answered shortly. "He's not even sure they're real, but he's not taking any chances." All were silent for a few minutes, each Athenian trying to wrap their minds around what she'd just said. It wasn't easy.

" _ _A team as good as us,__ " Blue Team's female finally sighed. " _ _That shouldn't be possible.__ "

"We're not sure it is," Klare reminded tersely. "They're just rumors for now. So stop chatting and focus; ETA to Edenburg is twenty-four minutes." The others went silent as they ran through the ancient forest. With Blue's guidance, they were able to avoid the few humans that were out and about amongst the trees. Thick underbrush and massive trunks slowed them down considerably, though Pink managed to slide through without major issue. It didn't bother the redhead too much as they made sure not to go beyond the two-hundred yards she'd assigned them, but it did make her wonder what they were truly capable of. They all knew the Insurrection wasn't using them to their full potential, but none were certain they knew what that 'full potential' actually was.

The sun was just starting to set as they reached their rendezvous point, each soldier blending into the shadows of the coming night. Edenburg lay before them, cradled in the lights of houses and streetlamps while managing to appear rustic. The sight pulled at a long-buried memory, but Klare shoved it away violently. This wasn't the time, the place, or the mental state to realize that she knew this place far better than she should from simply reading a file.

Pulling up the map on her HUD, the redhead plotted out the fastest course to get them to the Admiral's house, squatting down to draw the map in the dirt for everyone else as she ignored the feeling that she already knew what route would be best. "We'll set up camp in the woods a quarter mile from the house and wait," she told her men, mind throwing the plan together as she spoke. "They'll be on guard the first couple days, so we'll need to give them time to relax."

" _ _And they'll go back on guard as they're getting ready to leave,__ " Kenton agreed, voice soft and amused. " _ _So we need to hit them in the middle.__ "

" _ _Do we know the layout of the house?__ " a Grey Team member asked, sighing when Klare shook her head. " _ _Of course not. So we need to learn that first, or we'll screw up.__ "

"All true, but irrelevant for now," the redhead cut in, getting back to her feet. "At the moment, our only concern is reaching the target area. Move out." They obeyed.

It was in the cover of night that the group of soldiers finally reached their target's home, or rather the woods that bordered the property. Despite their distance, they all moved quietly through the thick underbrush, senses straining. Throughout their training, it had been pounded into them that they could never be too cautious. A single careless step, one mistimed move, could result in the failure of the entire mission. It was their attention to details that made them the best the Insurrection had, and they were proud of that title. There was no way they would jeopardize everything on the biggest mission they'd ever had.

A quarter mile from the house, Klare finally called a stop. The trees and undergrowth were so thick she couldn't see more than fifty feet in any direction, leaving her tense. ONI certainly wasn't the ultimate warrior division of the UNSC, but surely they weren't lax enough to not search the surrounding area. Besides, she couldn't forget the hunting pits they'd passed. Any beast needing a pit that big was a creature she didn't want to meet. "To the trees," she said quietly. "We'll camp above." The teams obeyed with no complaint, vanishing into the thick canopy. A beat later, she followed.

Working quickly, the Athenians strung up a series of hammocks, making sure to use the heavily leafed branches for cover. Twice they paused, hearing movement on the ground below, but whatever was down there moved on without bothering them, so they carried on. Only once everything was set did each soldier choose a hammock, settling in for the night. They arranged the guard schedule silently, playfully bickered about who snored louder, and then settled into sleep while Blue Team took the first shift.

Klare remained awake, staring up at the star-filled sky through the breaks in the leaves. There was a chill in the air, warning of the coming winter, but her suit kept her warm while also masking her heat signature. Thoughts and memories were dancing on the edge of her mind, taunting her with revelations she couldn't afford to face, so she tried to focus on the mission at hand. Unfortunately, her mind had already settled on a plan, leaving her little work in that department, so she settled for looking down at her men.

Owen, 135, and Kenton, 027, were closest to her, faces relaxed in sleep. Everyone had laughed when the three of them had been named Red Team; it had to be some cosmic joke that the three redheads were all put in a team of that color. However, the boys' hair was closer to a copper color, while hers was more reminiscent of fresh artery blood. They were all pale, just like the rest of her soldiers, but on Red Team, the paleness looked more natural. Truthfully, the only difference they had were their eyes. Owen's were blue, reminding Klare of deep lakes and fast moving rivers, whereas Kenton's were as bright green as new leaves in spring. They were both pure and beautiful, unlike Klare's silver eyes which screamed of something horrible and unnatural that had been done to her. She didn't want to think about that just then, though, so she let her gaze flick over to the other teams.

Alexander, 012, Pink One. The oldest of the Athenians, he was like an older brother to them all, even though he was the shortest of his Team. He was also very quiet, preferring to listen. With chocolate colored eyes and nearly black hair, he had a bit of a reputation amongst female Insurrectionists as a heartthrob; a designation that provided endless confusion for him and equally endless entertainment for the other Athenians. Quin, 015, Pink Two. A perfect opposite to his male partner, Quin was easily excitable and loved to talk at a million miles an hour. He had the build of a dancer, allowing him to slip through small spaces at a speed most people could never match. His eyes, a dark green that resembled the ancient forest they were in, always got a strange sparkle after he'd finished a mission, and his black hair had a disturbing ability to not show any blood he might get in it. There was very little scarier than thinking you're secure and hearing Quin laugh just before he slit your throat. By comparison, Jennifer, 067, Pink Three, didn't fit in the Team at all. She was a very sweet soul, preferring to care for her partners than to actually participate in their jobs. That wasn't to say she wasn't just as deadly as the males; her skill with throwing daggers was enough to make Klare thank every lucky star in the sky that she wasn't the blonde's enemy. Her warm brown eyes always looked like they were filled with tears, but she was about as delicate as a Valiant Class cruiser.

Jason, 045, Grey One. Anyone that looked at him wouldn't guess how dangerous he actually was. His large gold eyes and sleek black hair made him seem soft, but there was nothing soft about him. Klare had seen him blow up entire ships because he got bored, and he did it all with a smile. Anyone in the Insurrection that actually knew him feared him above all, which was slightly stupid as he was far from the most dangerous. He would, however, kill with little-to-no provocation, so maybe he did deserve that fear. Sonja, 032, Grey Two, was just as blood-thirsty, but she was much quieter about it. Jason would slit your throat as he laughed, but Sonja would lace your food with a slow acting poison that would kill you after days of agonizing pain. If asked about how you died, she'd just flip her charcoal grey hair back over her shoulder and smile, a sharp warning in her dark brown eyes. Pushing would result in another dead body. That left Grey Three, Dean, 063, the odd one out again. With bright blonde hair and sparkling green eyes, he didn't match the dark vibe given off by his partners. If anything, he gave off a flirty, careless, friendly air. That left most of his victims reeling, considering he'd smile so sweetly as he snapped their neck. He was also the silent leader of the Team; the only human alive that could handle One and Two without being murdered himself. It was pure luck that he had a lot of respect for Klare and generally followed her orders.

Blue One, Benjamen, 014, and Blue Three, Elizabeth, 003, were often mistaken for twins. Their hair was the same shade of dark brown and they had the same general build, leaning towards the tall and lithe side of the human spectrum. Only their eyes, blue and brown respectively, showed the difference between them. Well, that and their accents, but as they rarely said anything it was hard to notice that. By contrast, Dejon, 140, Blue Two, couldn't look more different. His black hair and black eyes made him appear mysterious, creeping into the realm of dangerous, but he was by far the sweetest of them all. It was Dejon alone that had never killed, though he had arranged more murders than the rest of them combined.

If she thought about it, Klare still wasn't sure why they'd all been brought together. Her men were as diverse as the human race could be, with no apparent unifying theme to bring them into the same team. What was it about the Athenians that made them work together, and why did it feel natural to have them at her back? She should have been chafing at the bit to have four teams on a single mission, but it almost felt...right. Just like being on this planet felt right.

So much for ignoring the memories

"You're thinking too hard, Team Leader," Benjamen called softly, smiling up at the redhead as she finally looked down at him. "Whatever's wrong, we'll deal with it in the morning." She couldn't resist a playful roll of her eyes at his mothering attitude, but he was right, so she settled further into her hammock and finally surrendered to the sleep that had been nipping at her.

* * *

 

Time: 0631/

July 22, 2536/

Outside of Edenburg, Verent

The sun was just peeking over the horizon as the Athenians settled right outside the clearing that held the Admiral's house. Carefully, the four team leaders moved to the very edge, finally getting an unobstructed view of the structure, complete with ONI guards and perimeter. With the bright rays of the morning at their back, the assassins knew they were relatively safe, but it was a fleeting safety, so they had to move fast.

" _ _Standard house design, based on what we saw in Edenburg,__ " Dejon noted quietly, perched safely in one of the nearby trees. " _ _If we go to town, we should be able to get designs for the general layout.__ "

" _ _That's not good enough,__ " Dean snarled, crouched close to Klare's legs. " _ _We need to know the__ exact __layout of the house if we're going to make a proper entry and exit. This is an Admiral's house; there have to be security enhancements we can't see from here or on a general blueprint.__ "

" _ _It's not actually an Admiral's house,__ " Jennifer cut in, a small smirk on the edges of her tone. " _ _Hood and Parangosky have never lived here, only their daughter and grandkids.__ "

"Which means security will still be tight," Klare snapped sharply, feeling a shiver of anger curling under her skin. Looking at the house was painful, and she didn't know why. "We're not here to bicker; we're here to gather information for the plan. Grey Three, focus on entrances and exits. Your Team will be breaking in during the night, so keep that in mind. Pink Three, map the terrain. If there's a buried root or partially covered hole that's going to trip your men, find it now. Blue Two, mark the ONI agents. Where do they patrol, how many are there, are there blind spots? I'm on the search for the special unit. Move about as needed, but if you're seen, we're leaving you behind. Anyone stupid enough to return to the camp after being spotted gets a dagger between the ribs."

She knew she was getting strange looks, especially from Dean, but she didn't give them time to ask what was wrong, choosing to vanish into the undergrowth before they could formulate exactly what they wanted to say. They wouldn't let her get away with her escape for long, but she knew they were too professional to call her out this close to the enemy. So long as she maintained a safe distance, she'd be able to get through the day.

By the time noon rolled around, Klare was grinding her teeth in anger. Nothing. There was absolutely no sign of any 'special unit' anywhere near the property. She'd seen enough ONI agents to build a squad, as well as the occasional sighting of Parangosky and her family, and had even had to hide from an overly yappy dog that she was sure one of the guards had called 'Misty'. What she __hadn't__ seen were soldiers that could match her in dangerousness. The other team leaders reported the same, each clearly confused. Admiral Hoskins wasn't one to pass on baseless rumors. He'd warned her, which meant he believed the enemy unit was real and present. However, he had been wrong before. She could only hope that was the case this time.

" _ _Team Leader, there's nothing more for us to do out here,__ " Dean called softly, coming up behind the redhead with just enough noise to prevent her from knifing him. " _ _We can't learn anything more from this distance; we'll have to wait for the plan.__ "

"I know," she sighed, really wanting to rest her head in her hand, but unable to with the helmet on. "I just don't like not knowing if they're here or not."

" _ _None of us do, but we can't force them to appear without jeopardizing the mission. Come back to camp.__ " She considered arguing, not liking how he seemed to take command, but she was too tired to put up more than a token protest as he pulled her away. It was a testament to their years together that he didn't snap her neck for being stupid and she didn't slit his throat for giving her an order. More than most, their friendship was based on violence and a strangely warped sense of respect. Speaking of... " _ _You're not at the top of your game this time around, Team Leader.__ "

"Did I ask for your opinion?" Klare snapped, jerking her arm out of his grasp. "Keep your mind on the mission and out of my personal life."

" _ _I can't,__ " the blonde growled back, stepping right into her space and forcing her against a large trunk. " _ _You're Team Leader. We're all depending on you to lead this mission, but you're so wrapped up in your head that you couldn't even hear us calling you the last hour to tell you we were done with our tasks.__ " He didn't back off when she drew a dagger; just pulled out his own and took a defensive stance. " _ _You want to fight me? Fine. Attack. Maybe a little skull bashing will bring you back to the mission before your inattention gets us killed.__ "

She wanted to tell him that she could do her job. She wanted to beat him black and blue for suggesting that she wasn't doing what they needed her to do. She wanted to tear his throat out for forcing her into a confrontation. But she didn't do any of that. Instead, she decided to swallow some of her pride and croaked, "I know this world." He didn't mock like she'd half expected. Just slid out of his defensive stance, hidden face pointed right at her to show she had his complete attention. "It's been going on since I killed the son-in-law. Memories, feelings, they're all coming in a mad rush that I can't understand and I can't control. I'm working on it, but..."

" _ _But you need more focus than you can spare with this mission,__ " Dean finished. " _ _To keep control of the memories, and thus yourself, you can't focus on the mission. Focus on the mission and the memories will overtake you and you'll be worse than useless. You'll be a security threat.__ "

"Exactly," Klare sighed. "If I'd known this would happen I'd have assigned a different team."

" _ _I know,__ " her friend said quietly. " _ _This might come as a surprise to you, but we all believe in you. We know you wouldn't let us down if you could stop it in any way.__ " He offered a hand, though she noted he hadn't released the dagger. A good idea, as she still held her own. " _ _Let's go back to the camp. We'll finalize the plan and then you can rest and pull everything back together until we start.__ " It was the logical decision, and he hadn't phrased it as an order, so she nodded. There was still an urge to shove her blade somewhere tender on his body, but she resisted, knowing she'd need him in top shape if this mission was to be a success. Besides, there were always the training fields where she could work her frustrations out on him. So she finally slid the weapon back into its sheath and took his hand, holding him close until he'd disarmed himself. " _ _You tell anyone I was this nice and I'll deny it, right after I brutally murder you.__ "

"Your secret is safe with me," the redhead smiled, feeling herself relax for the first time since she'd heard about the mission. "Now, report on what you found in the clearing." Dean did so willingly, offering several opinions on how the plan could be improved now that they had a working understanding of their situation. Between the two of them, they'd hashed out almost all of the details by the time they'd reached the camp, still hidden in the treetops. Gesturing for his leader to go first, Dean stood guard until she was settled with the rest of the group before joining them himself.

"Alright, let's get to work," Klare said shortly, pulling her helmet off in response to a sudden desperation for fresh air. It only took a moment, but the others followed her example, faces nearly glowing in the shadows of the trees. She took a second to savor the view before pulling herself back into the moment. Dean was right; they needed her to be at 100% for this one. "We won't do anything until tomorrow night; give the enemy time to relax. They rotate guards every hour, but the new guards are always jumpy for the first five minutes or so, which means they're more likely to discount slight movement during that time as imagination. Just before midnight tomorrow night, Grey Team will breach the clearing and do a navigation sweep of the land. With that information, we'll build a more exact infiltration plan. Next night, Pink Team and Grey Team will co-op a breach into the house itself to learn the interior. We need to know everything; where does everyone sleep and what security are we dealing with? Also, Blue Team, there's a dog. We need a way to silence it." She could see Jennifer instantly tear up and rolled her eyes. "Without killing it."

"Leave it to us," Elizabeth smiled, giving Jennifer a knowing look. "I'm sure I've got some sedatives that will knock it out safely."

"I don't care how you do it, just make sure it's done," the redhead sniped. "We will __not__ fail because of a furball. Now listen, the last night is the most important. Pink Team will infiltrate solo, reach Parangosky, and kill her. The moment she's dead, I don't care how you get out, just do it. We'll all be ready in the woods, so once the mission is complete, we split. Blue Team, remain available every night to cover. We leave any evidence, I want it gone before we realize we've messed up. Red Team, we're back up. Anything goes sideways, we jump in to straighten it up again. Understood?"

"Yes, Team Leader," they all replied in unison, eyes steady and firm. She knew she could trust them; they wouldn't let her down unless they were dragged kicking and screaming into death. Even though she still didn't like bringing them all together for one mission, they'd proven that they could work in tandem to get the job done. It was because of this that she knew she had to confide in them.

"You've noticed I'm not functioning at my usual efficiency," she admitted. "There's something about this mission that's tied to my past and the memories it's pulling at are painful." Looks of concern appeared on every face, though some were far more subtle than others. "For this reason, I'm surrendering command of the mission to 027." She looked at Kenton to make sure he was okay with the plan and he nodded. "I swear, I'll have everything worked out by the first night. Just give me a little bit of time."

"We got you covered, 113," Jason said, giving her one of his rare true smiles. The use of her number was as intimate as he'd get in an unsecured area, but it meant the world to her. Nodding her thanks and appreciation, she waved them all away before climbing up to her hammock and settling into it. She could hear her men shuffle around as they went about their own tasks, but she tuned them out as she fell into meditation. It felt like there were cracks in her mind, threatening to shatter everything, and she knew it would take a considerable amount of time to heal completely. All she really had time for was a rough patch job and a fast prayer that she wouldn't break when they needed her.

She didn't stay in meditation the entire time, of course. Her Team made sure to pull her out for meals and she spent a couple hours simply being with everyone as they all refreshed the streaks of dye in their hair. Those off-colored sections of hair were their pride and joys; a silent rebellion against the military that they had no choice but to serve. Each Athenian's dye color designated the team they were assigned to, and the location reflected the personality of the soldier. Those that liked to tug on their bangs dyed the section they preferred to tug while others with shaved sides dyed the shorter strands. The Insurrection psychiatrists were constantly intrigued by the choices of dyes and locations, but none had ever felt comfortable outright asking why the deadly group had chosen that specific rebellion. It was probably a good thing, too, as they'd have to answer that they didn't know. Some had vague recollections of a girl with blue hair that was being shaved bald, but that was all, and they would never reveal a memory.

"Team Leader?" Klare blinked her eyes open, finding Dejon looking down at her with a small smile. "Grey Team is ready to move out for the first phase of the plan. Do you want to accompany them?"

"Yeah," she yawned, slowly sitting up and rubbing a kink out of her neck. "Who is heading out, exactly?"

"All of Grey Team, myself, and you," was the quiet answer as she swung out of the hammock and dropped soundlessly to the forest floor. He landed beside her a second later, helmet held loosely as Grey Team trotted over to them. They were all geared up and nearly vibrating in excitement, shifting restlessly as the redhead and Blue member pulled their helmets on and prepared to move out. Even knowing she wouldn't see anything, Klare glanced up at the hidden camp and waved a short goodbye. Then they were weaving through the underbrush, heading back for the house. The only close call they had was with an irate squirrel, but when they reached the clearing, everything was silent.

" _ _045 you're running this mission,__ " Dean ordered quietly, pulling himself into a tree so he could see the entire clearing. " _ _032, go to the other side so that he has eyes on him at all time. 113, 140, I don't care where you go but keep out of our way.__ " Biting her tongue against the irritated reply she wanted to give, Klare nodded and melted into the underbrush, moving to a tree she'd spotted the last time she'd been in the area. It was an ancient oak, very sturdy and with twisting branches that she could use for camouflage. From there, she'd be able to oversee the entire run. Of all the nights, this first was the most dangerous, because it was all in the open. Jason wouldn't have very much cover as he moved about, right under the noses of the ONI agents. They weren't the most dangerous opponents in the war, but there was no such thing as a stupid agent. Everything depended on Grey Team's ability to stay hidden in plain sight, which was exactly why she'd brought them. That didn't make her worry about them any less.

The redhead had barely settled into the tree before Jason broke treeline, staying low and fast. In the silver light of the moon and the shifting of his shields to bend light around him, he was nearly invisible as he made his first circuit, barely more than three meters from the trees. None of the guards noticed, and Klare was just starting to think that he would make it as he passed her perch when a sudden burst of movement caught her attention. There was no time to call a warning as the blur reached her Athenian before she could fully understand what she was seeing. One second everything was clear, and the next Jason was in the dirt, one arm twisted behind his back and a large armored foot pressing his head into the soil.

Despite the small part of her mind that was screaming in fear and rage at one of her soldiers being trapped, Klare forced the logical part of her mind to catalog this new enemy. There was no way to confirm it, but she was willing to bet her life that it was a member of the 'elite unit' Hoskins had warned about, though if it was a human or robot was undetermined. Whatever else it was, it was massive, standing a little over two meters tall. The armor it wore was just as large, though it moved as though all that metal and padding weighed nothing. Its speed was clearly impressive and from the roll of platings that indicated the moving muscles beneath, she was sure it was much stronger than her men. That wasn't even taking into consideration how none of them had spotted the hulking monstrosity sulking in the shadows. She'd have to have words with Admiral Hoskins later; there was a huge difference between 'elite' and 'enhanced'.

" _ _Good morning, Innie,__ " the attacker said pleasantly, voice coming clearly through the speakers on the suit. " _ _Out for an early morning stroll?__ " Please, oh please, don't let Jason be pulled into a banter competition.

" _ _You got it all wrong, gov'. I'm just the milkman.__ " Resisting the urge to slam her head into the branch before her, the redhead muttered a string of curses. One of these days she'd bash it into Grey Team's skulls that being a smart ass wasn't always the best course of action. " _ _Saw all them guards and thought I should come back a bit later, once the nice ladies are awake and can vouch for me.__ "

" _ _Okay, first off, your accent is atrocious,__ " the UNSC soldier huffed, completely unaware of the silent war occurring in the trees near them. Dean and Sonja were all for taking the armored fighter out for good, Dejon was anxiously keeping an eye on the other guards, and Klare was rapidly losing her patience with everyone involved. Snapping at the remaining Grey Team members to shut up, the redhead carefully jumped from the tree, landing solidly in the shadows. She knew the Athenians at camp had already been alerted to the snag, so all she had to focus on was getting her idiot out unharmed. " _ _Secondly, no one mentioned a milkman, so you should probably come up with a better lie. In the meantime-__ "

Seeing the armor reach for Jason's helmet, she made a split-second decision. Grabbing a small rock near her feet, she twisted and threw it as hard as she could, sending it smashing into a tree across the clearing with a very loud crash. It drew the attention of every guard if the shouts could be believed, but her focus was on the giant soldier. The second she saw its focus waver, she barked over the COM, "Flick!"

Flicks were the Athenians' secret weapon, used as a last resort for escapes. When flicking, the Athenian would move faster than the eye could track, at a speed that would kill most humans and _did_ cause her men severe damage if used too long or too often. They couldn't maintain the speed for long periods of time; the longest any of them had managed was just under thirty seconds. For the most part, they used the technique to evade an enemy's sight before laying low and waiting for the danger to pass. Hopefully, a flick would be too fast for even this enhanced soldier to follow.

Twisting his arm violently to break free from the slackened hold of his attacker, Jason barely managed to get his head out from under the armored foot and his own feet under him before flicking into the shadows, leaving the soldier standing guard over nothing. They could all hear the UNSC member cursing as he looked about wildly, most likely scanning for some sign of his escaped prisoner. However, he remained oblivious to the pair huddled in the hollow of the oak tree's roots, one soldier nursing a dislocated shoulder and the other silently raging against the enemy that had managed to injure one of her men.

" _ _Mike!__ " Startled, Klare looked over to see two more armored soldiers trotting over to the first, coming from the direction of the house. She could vaguely pick out the silhouette of Parangosky in the doorway and felt her fingers itch to just throw a dagger and finish the entire mission. Sadly, to do that would be to expose herself, and she couldn't do that with Jason injured at her feet. The Admiral would live to fight another day, but not two if the redhead had anything to say about it. " _ _What happened?__ "

" _ _Insurrectionist, though not from any unit I recognize,__ " the soldier that had pinned Jason, Mike, answered as ONI agents came running as well. " _ _I'm sorry Jai, the noise distracted me and he managed to escape.__ "

" _ _He can't have gotten too far,__ " came a female voice from one of the suits. " _ _Let's check out where the noise came from; it must have been caused by a teammate, so we might be able to track from that point.__ " There must have been a signal that the Athenians missed, because the next thing they knew, the small group was loping across the clearing to examine the damaged tree. The moment they were out of the direct line of sight, Klare had Jason up, his uninjured arm slung around her neck while he held the other close, and was moving deeper into the underbrush. Behind her came the noises of Grey Team following closely as Dejon kept pace from the tree limbs. Hoping that the press of vegetation would deter the large enemy from following them, the redhead made her way through the densest sections of the forest that she could, feeling her rage grow every time the soldier beside her made a noise of pain.

Reaching the camp area, she found Owen perched on a lower limb, waiting for them with Elizabeth not far above him. Knowing that the other Athenians were staggered up the tree, she boosted Jason up so Own could grab him and carefully pull him up. Klare and the rest of Grey Team stayed on the ground, watching and listening for any signs of pursuit until Kenton reported that Jason was secure and treatment had started. At that signal, Dean and Sonja scrambled up after their injured teammate, the redhead refusing to follow until they were safely out of sight and she could move with concern for herself only.

" _ _What happened?__ " Quin asked the moment everyone was hidden amongst the leaves once more, Jennifer examining the dislocated shoulder to determine exactly how to set it. " _ _How the hell did we get caught? We never get caught!__ "

" _ _It must have been that special unit Admiral Hoskins warned us about,__ " Sonja growled, fury showing clearly through her voice. " _ _Bastard was on Jason before we could see there was movement.__ "

" _ _We have to abandon the mission,__ " Elizabeth argued hotly, sounding like she was near tears, though if they were in fear or rage wasn't clear. " _ _They know about us now; there's no way we can finish the job.__ "

"There is," Klare snapped, wanting to stop that line of thought before it could go any farther. "We can still win this one. Those soldiers don't know how many of us there are; at most they will suspect two and they know one is injured. We can use that to draw them off by making them think they're chasing one of us, but really tag teaming to keep ahead of them. Besides, armor that bulky won't move through this type of forest well. All we have to do is outsmart them. And they're cocky; they all came out when Jason broke free. We know more about them than they know about us. A couple changes to the plan and we can pull this off."

" _ _I'm with Team Leader,__ " Jason hissed as his shoulder was jerked back into its proper place. " _ _We can't run now. I say hit them while they're high and watch them crash.__ " The other Athenians started nodding, clearly in agreement. None of them had liked the idea of leaving, and they were all ruthless enough to want some revenge for the slight done against one of their friends. The hard part would be holding them back until the proper time to strike, but Klare was ready for that challenge. What she wasn't ready for was walking away with her tail between her leg, so let the UNSC bring out all the armored soldiers they had. No matter what, Parangosky would not live to see the end of the week.

* * *

 

Time: 2352/

July 24, 2536/

Outside of Edenburg, Verent

" _ _I still don't like this,__ " Owen muttered angrily as Klare edged into the shadow of the last tree. She could see the house clearly, lit up by the full moon that they'd been cursed with. There was a chance that the infuriating Admiral had chosen the week of her visit based partially off the large and bright moon that would be shining down every night, but the redhead certainly hoped not. Someone that paid that close attention to such minor details was more of a headache then she could deal with at any time.

Settling into a crouch next to a massive exposed root, the redhead took a deep breath. She'd wanted to strike the night before, but security had been too tight after their botched attempt from the first night. Truthfully, it was still dangerous to attempt the mission, but there was no other choice. Parangosky would only remain for one more night, and then she'd return to the safety of Reach. The guards would be beyond alert for the final night, so it had to be that night or never, and never was __not__ an option.

"It's a good thing I didn't ask for your opinion then, isn't it?" the soldier hissed at her irritated teammate. "I'm in position; begin stage one of the plan." Dull clicks filtered through the COM, each of her soldiers acknowledging her orders, and she settled down to wait. Despite her words, she knew everyone would give a minute to find her calm center because they all knew how difficult it was to complete a mission like hers when emotions were running wild.

Finding the patience to wait was harder than it had ever been. She would come close, only to remember how Jason was sitting in a tree, his arm in a sling and completely useless. That UNSC soldier had held him so tight, her Athenian had done the technique to break free perfectly and __still__ nearly had to tear his arm off to get loose. Now he had to wait in the darkness, reduced to the cripple's position of being worse than useless; he was a liability. Just the thought would trigger an inferno of rage that the redhead could barely keep under control. She didn't want to lure the armored freaks away. She wanted to slit their throats; wanted to sever a major artery that would allow them to bleed out slowly enough to feel every second of pain.

Focus. She needed to focus. Jason was depending on her to finish the mission for him, and she would __not__ let him down. So she gathered up her anger, wrapped it into a ball, and threw it in the far reaches of her mind to be dealt with at a later time. All that mattered was getting to Parangosky and ending her life. That was all she could think about. "Ready," she breathed, feeling as calm as though she sat safely in her quarters and her eyes were closed in meditation. But her eyes were wide open, seeing every shift of the grass and the soldiers that patrolled the grounds. Her Athenians were on the other side of the clearing, so she couldn't see what they did to get the guards' attention, but she saw the blur as the armored fighters took off. The ONI were instantly alert as well, but Klare wasn't worried about them. If they came after her, she'd see them long before they could strike.

The seconds ticked by through eternity, but that was perfectly alright. In her center, at last, the redhead could wait forever for the right moment. Nothing, short of the planet exploding, would be able to shake her from the task at hand. Then, " _ _We have all three; you're clear. Take her out.__ " Klare was moving before the voice had finished, weaving through the tall grass swiftly. Remembering what Jennifer had warned about, she avoided the small trenches and furrows that were placed sporadically to trip anyone that didn't belong. It only took her a small handful of seconds to reach the house, and then she was scaling up the sides as fast as she dared. Eventually, ONI would realize that they couldn't keep up with the armored soldiers tracking the enemy and they would return to stand guard. In fact, she distantly hoped that the agents were discharged for leaving their posts at all. Sure, it made her job easier, but as a soldier, she was insulted that they would be so lax in their duties.

Finding the window they'd been able to identify as the last hallway window before the Admiral's room, the redhead quickly scanned for alarms and found none. The house didn't just look antique; it was actually built from wood, which limited the amount of digital security that could be utilized. A passing thought of just why the two most powerful members of the UNSC would consent to allow their family to live in a house that was a security nightmare passed through her mind, but she shoved it away with a snarl. Guessing games had no place outside of her quarters!

Using her knife to unlatch the window, Klare quickly slid it open and entered the house, dropping to the floor soundlessly. She listened tensely for several seconds, taking in the sounds of the house. There were faint groans and creaks, all typical of an old house settling, and a very annoying drip coming from a nearby bathroom. Beneath that came the sounds of a household at sleep. Across the hall came the gentle sounds of an adult female at rest, while the room at the end of the hall held the whimpers of a young woman in the middle of a nightmare. Quiet footsteps came drifting up the stairs, indicating the presence of agents in the lower section of the house. With any luck, the dog was with them and would be unaware of the intruder.

The door that held the redhead's attention, by contrast, was silent. If Parangosky was actually inside, she had mastered the ability to sleep silently. Not an impossible task; every Athenian could sleep without making a sound. It was simply not something she'd thought the old woman would be capable of, but that was irrelevant. With careful steps, she crossed the hall and laid a gentle hand on the doorknob. She wouldn't put it past the paranoid Intelligence Officer to have a door that squeaked on purpose, so she needed to proceed carefully.

It took a small eternity to turn the knob, constantly wary of any sound that might come forth. When the bolt was free, the Athenian slowly pulled the door open, pausing every second to adjust for the squeaks she caught before they'd really begun. Over the COM, she could hear her men muttering curses as the armored soldiers continued to pursue them, but there were no sounds of anger or alarm, so she let them be. They would complete their mission; she had to complete hers.

As soon as the opening was wide enough, Klare slid into the room, scanning thoroughly to make sure she wouldn't trip any traps. There was a small wire near the ground that she stepped over, as well as a hidden alarm laser that required a controlled duck and roll to avoid, but then she was in the clear and able to see her target at last.

Even after reading the woman's file a million times, the redhead felt an abstract disappointment at finally seeing Admiral Margaret Parangosky in person. With as much fear and respect as the officer commanded, the Athenian had expected someone whose very presence was impressive and intimidating. What she got was an old lady of average height and slight build. Her silver hair made her seem like she would shatter at any second, and the wrinkles gave her an air of wisdom rather than power. But, Klare reminded herself, the most dangerous people are the soldiers that don't look dangerous. She saw it every day with her men and each time she looked in the mirror. There was no time to see the Admiral as anything less than completely deadly and a very immediate threat. So, drawing one of her many daggers, the redhead strode confidently to the bedside and reached forward, blade ready to slice through the fragile skin and paint the room with blood. She needed to move quickly, because the memories were pulling at her harder than ever, __screaming__ that she couldn't do what she was about to. 'Not her,' it roared, thrashing like an angry beast in her chest. 'You can't kill her! She's your-'

" _ _Team Leader, halt the mission! Respond immediately.__ " Pulling back, the Athenian took a step away, dagger at the ready but by her side.

"Yes, Admiral Hoskins. I hear you." She kept her eyes on her sleeping opponent, knowing the soundproofing of her suit wasn't perfect, no matter what the engineers said. "I'm unsecured; please be quick." If he wanted to take her to task for being insubordinate, fine; she was risking her life and the lives of her men with every passing second, so it had better be damn important!

" _ _The mission is scrapped,__ " Hoskins' voice said firmly, completely unaware of the angry twitch the redhead gave. She did not come all this way to pull back at the last second, dammit! " _ _Hood is recovering from the death of his son-in-law and his grief is changing to anger. I still want Parangosky dead, but the Insurrection would not survive Hood's rage if we killed his wife. Instead, send a message that they are not safe. This victory will have to be psychological. Acknowledge.__ "

"Acknowledged," Klare spat out, feeling anger and disgust dancing on her tongue. Everything they'd risked, the injuries they'd received, were for nothing. Parangosky would walk away from this week, possibly worried but very much alive. The armored giants would be ready for them next time, making every future mission much more dangerous. Hoskins was wrong; there was no victory to be had.

But orders were orders, so the redhead moved to the bedside table. The Admiral's hat lay on the piece of furniture, and the Athenian stabbed her dagger through the weak cloth and into the hardwood beneath. She knew what the next morning would bring; Parangosky would find the knife and realize just how close the enemy had gotten. Every guard would be taken to task for allowing the breach to happen, but they'd all live to tell the tale. Word would spread throughout the UNSC of an elite team that could hit any target they wanted and morale would plummet. A strategic victory, then. In the meantime, the Athenians would deal with their first failure, and she'd have to review what they had done to find and fix any mistake they'd made. The memories would continue to plague her, and she'd have to find a way to deal with them or force them back into the shadows of her mind. Either way, things would never be the same. However, the future was the future, and she had no time to worry about it. She could only attend to one problem at a time and her men needed to get off the planet. Everything else would have to wait.

Klare was about to leave when she spotted a file on the nearby table. The data they had on the Admiral did state that she liked to have actual paper copies of sensitive documents, in an attempt to limit the amount of digital security leaks that could be possible. Normally, the Athenian wouldn't care; she wasn't in Intelligence and saw no need to do the spies jobs for them. What caught her attention was the partially revealed schematic of the armor the enhanced team wore. Quickly, the redhead pulled the file free of the paper stack and flipped it open. She only had a couple seconds to scan, noting certain phrases that jumped out at her, though she wasn't entirely sure why some of them were important. 'Dr. Catherine Halsey'. 'MJOLNIR'. 'Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez'. ' Secured Reach training facility'. '117'.

'SPARTAN-II'.

"Admiral!" The yell from the hall told Klare her time was up. She hadn't closed the bedroom door behind her, not thinking she'd be inside as long as she had been; someone must have come up to check. From the corner of her vision, she could see the Admiral jerk awake, but she was already yanking the nearest window open and sliding out. There was a thorny bush directly beneath her, so she leaped away, landing in a growth of heather. Not waiting to see if anyone had spotted her jump, she took off, bent nearly in half to stay below the tops of the grass. Yells and barks from behind told her that the guards were in disarray, but that would only last so long. Eventually, they'd think to start combing the surrounding area, and she needed to be long gone.

"Command scrubbed the mission," she said briskly into the team COM, finally reaching the trees and racing from shadow to shadow. "The new mission objectives were met, so it's time to go. Scatter; meet up at rendezvous point Charlie. 045, remain where you are, I'm coming back for you. Acknowledge." Another series of clicks, including a double-tap signal that was Jason's personal call. He'd be ready for when she arrived.

The undergrowth slowed her down a bit, but Klare eventually broke free into the small copse of trees that Jason had taken shelter in. He was ready as promised, arm securely in a sling and his mission pack over his shoulder. Her pack was at his feet and he handed it to her quickly as he fell into step beside her, allowing her to keep moving and not come to a full stop. She could feel his anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves, but there was no time to focus on the sensations. Their transport would not wait if they were late and the forest was determined to slow them down. She suffered a brief moment of panic that her soldiers would be too tired from leading the armored soldiers, the Spartans, on the goose chase to reach the LZ in time, but guilt came hard on the heels of the panic. Her men had  _never_  let her down; she had no right to doubt them.

Sure enough, Klare and Jason were actually the last to reach the rendezvous point. The other Athenians were waiting patiently, each with their packs ready. Dean and Sonja visibly relaxed as Jason trotted over to join them, while Owen and Kenton settled for nods as their partner moved around the group and kept going, knowing they'd fall in behind her. RV Charlie was the closest to the LZ, but they had less than ten minutes to travel a distance that would take a normal human thirty minutes. It got bad enough that the redhead actually drew one of her long blades and started cutting through the underbrush, wincing at the thought of the trail she was leaving but unable to think of any other plan that would get them to safety.

The group broke into the LZ seconds before the dropship was to take off. Over the open ground, they moved at their normal speed and boarded in that last handful of seconds. The cockpit was sealed shut, but Klare could still see the pilot jump as they suddenly appeared in the interior camera's view. He pulled the dropship off the ground right on schedule, sealing the aft hatch as the Athenians hurried to secure their packs and started stripping their armor. None of them had forgotten that there was supposed to be no records that they'd gone on the mission at all, though they still did not enjoy the sensation of being vulnerable. Jason, more than the others, felt uncomfortable as he held his injured arm close to his body. Even knowing the medics would have him patched in no time and he'd be back running missions within the week, the redhead still felt a flame of fury licking at her chest.  _No one_  injured one of her soldiers and got away with it, but that Spartan had done just that. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

As the dropship left the atmosphere, the teams slowly settled into their seats. They fell into their silent communication easily, comparing notes about the soldiers that had chased them and theorizing about why their original mission had been scrapped. Jennifer managed to bully Jason into taking some more pain meds while Quin and Alexander got into an argument about who was faster that resulted in Alex pinned to the ground in a headlock and Sonja laughed like a silent hyena.

Klare remained separate from them all, mind racing over what she'd learned. She knew she'd have to report to Admiral Hoskins, and she __knew__ he'd be unhappy with what she'd discovered. The Spartans were dangerous, and she wasn't entirely sure her Athenians could match them in straight combat. In fact, she was pretty sure they couldn't. There had to be weaknesses, and she knew they would be discovered in time, but at that moment, it seemed like they'd have to stay purely defensive around the massive soldiers. Nothing but bad news, and Hoskins hated bad news. Tiredly, the redhead wondered where he'd scar her this time. Her back was already a patchwork of scars from his punishments, so he might pick something new. Most times she would keep herself mentally distant while he punished her, allowing her mind to stay sharp even as her body was broken. This time, though, she'd need to pay attention, so she could memorize every wound she was about to endure. Only then could she pay it back to the Spartans that had ruined everything, giving exactly as bad as she'd gotten. After all, she knew they'd meet again. Two elite units on opposite sides of a war; it was a miracle they'd waited five years before running into each other at all. So yes, she'd see them again.

And the thought terrified her.

 


	3. The Battle

**The Battle**

Time: 1430/

January 28, 2537/

Aboard the _USF Pearl Harbor_

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Klare shrugged the last of her armor off, feeling the odd place where the cloth stuck to her skin. She'd have to take a shower soon to wash all the blood off, preferably before Admiral Hoskins ordered her in to report on the mission. The scars she'd gotten from the last time he'd be angry at her were still raw. Preferably, they would finish healing before she accumulated any new ones.

“You need to see a doctor,” Kenton said, watching his team leader limp to her bunk. Owen hadn't even bothered stripping the armor, choosing to collapse on his bed instead. Both of them were covered in bruises, but the female was the only one bleeding. “Team Leader.”

“I heard you,” she grunted, pulling a piece of cloth from under her mattress and limping to the attached bathroom. Though she vanished inside, the two males could hear her hisses of pain. They shared looks of concern, but kept quiet. Best friends and teammates they might have been, but Klare had a limit and if they pushed her over it, she'd take them out without hesitation. Better to let her work through her anger on her own, and then she'd be open to listening.

A quiet tap on the door had all of Red Team tensing, but a second tap let them relax as Kenton keyed the door to open. No one moved as a small group of Athenians slid through the opening, fully armored, faces hidden. When the door slid closed, though, they all pulled the helmets off, expressions openly concerned. That, more than anything else, showed how dangerous the situation was. Klare was the best they had; if something was wrong with her, everything would go to pieces.

“How is she doing?” Carris asked quietly, brushing her white bangs out of her face. She noted the pile of armor on the ground, they all had, but she'd also spotted the drops of blood on the floor. Since Owen and Kenton weren't acting in pain, there was only one person it could have come from.

“Not good,” the smallest Red member sighed, glancing at the bathroom when a warning growl came through. “The Spartans found a way to circumvent our scanners, so she got blindsided. Owen got there in time to distract them so she could escape but...the damage is pretty bad.” A louder growl; he really needed to shut up. Silently, each Athenian found a place to sit in the room, some moving with exaggerated care to avoid jostling injuries.

Dean, alone, made his way to the bathroom and leaned in. What he saw made him shake his head and enter fully, though he kept a wary eye on his leader's hands. She didn't have her blades, but she could cause a significant amount of damage unarmed. “Let me do that,” he said carefully, reaching out to take the bloody cloth from her. He got a hiss for his trouble, but she didn't stop him from wetting the rag and carefully wiping the blood from her back. They were quiet for a long moment; the redhead biting her tongue against the pained noises she wanted to make and the blonde seething against every new cut and bruise he could see. A quick glance revealed splotches of color scattered across her entire body, varying from green/purple to black/blue to terrifyingly red. “How did they manage to catch you?”

“I was taking the shot,” she grunted as he probed a deep laceration. “To complete the mission, I had to give the first hit. Wasn't expecting the second blow, and then they were too close to flick. They're starting to catch on.” He had to agree. In the six months that the two groups had been aware of each other, the Spartans had quickly made up any lack of knowledge they might have started with. Most of the Athenians' tricks still worked, but only because they rarely used them. With the communication system their enemy had, what one Spartan saw, every Spartan knew within forty-eight hours. It made keeping secrets nearly impossible.

“We're gonna have to take them out soon,” Dean sighed, finishing her back and slowly turning her with gentle pressure to her unmarked shoulder. She'd gotten almost all of the blood off her front, except for a smear on her neck. It wasn't immediately visible because of the livid bruise that circled her throat, looking suspiciously hand shaped. Rage roared in his chest, but he stamped it down before he could do more than twitch. The Spartans must have been especially pissed, to try to strangle her. “We also need to enhance our armor.”

“The Admiral will never agree to upgrade the armor,” Klare muttered, refusing to wince as the blonde carefully felt the bridge of her nose. It was broken, but she'd already set it so that she could breathe through the mass of blood in the back of her throat. “That would cost more, and the officers will never willing spend more on us than is absolutely necessary.”

“If we don't upgrade, we will die and they will lose the best weapons they have,” he drawled back. “That makes it pretty damn necessary to me.”

“You're not an officer,” the redhead sighed, wilting at last as she allowed her exhaustion to show. “Logic rarely applies to them.” She tilted her head up when he pressed the bottom of her chin lightly, allowing him to clean off the rest of the blood. If any other Athenian had tried, she would have kicked them out of the room, but this was Dean. He had a livid black eye and a new deep scar across his forehead, courtesy of a Spartan that was good with knives. Of all the Athenians, only Dean had bled more than she. “Speaking of officers, has Admiral Hoskins called for me yet?”

“Not yet,” the blonde grunted, having to rub a little harder than he wanted to get the dried blood off. He didn't enjoy her flinch like he normally would have. “I'm not sure your team will allow you to go when it does come. They look ready to tie you to your bunk.”

“Don't doubt it,” she growled, finally pushing him away when the pain got too much. “They can't stop me, though. Hoskins is my trainer; I can't disregard his summons.” Dean settled for giving her an unimpressed look that didn't need to be translated. The Athenians were military and understood the importance of obeying the chain-of-command, but their personal loyalty was stronger than any forced respect for the Insurrection. If Kenton and Owen thought she'd be better off trapped in her quarters, she'd remain trapped in her quarters.

“Team Leader,” Carris called, tapping lightly on the wall beside the bathroom entrance. “Admiral Hoskins has summoned you. Your team is ready to accompany you to his office.” A growl started rumbling deep in the redhead's chest, but she held her tongue as she edged past Dean and left the small room. Sure enough, Kenton and Owen were at the door, though they'd removed their armor and were waiting in standard uniform. Unusual, but not completely unexpected; they'd want to provide a unified front for the Admiral and Klare wasn't capable of wearing her armor just then. The female redhead glared at them, but there was no time to argue. She barely had time to pull on the uniform herself and walk out the door, knowing that some of her wounds were still bleeding. Hoskins was going to have her hide.

The trio was silent as they traversed the oddly empty halls. The Insurrection was planning a large offensive on Emerald Cove and had sent most of the soldiers to prepare for the invasion. Hoskins had considered sending the Athenians; they'd all trained on the planet after all. No one knew the ins and outs better than they. But the Spartans were proving to be a bigger threat than anyone had predicted, and the Athenians were held in reserve at all times to counter them. None of them enjoyed the feeling of being left behind, but they made no complaint. It wasn't allowed.

'I smell artery blood,' Owen said through their silent language as they rode the lift to the needed floor, giving Klare the slightest of glares. The one she gave back was exponentially stronger. 'Team Leader-'

'Enough!' she snapped back, though it was only the slightest shift of her weight. Kenton remained still, though his displeasure was nearly rolling off of him. Of the group, he was the most level-headed, but that didn't make him less dangerous. In some ways, his quiet was a bigger threat than their rage. Klare and Owen could be distracted with emotion. The smallest member of their group would only be mildly amused that the enemy thought they could emotionally compromise him at all.

'You will remain silent unless spoken to directly,' she said silently as the lift came to a stop and they moved down the hall. Here, at last, there were other soldiers, but still far fewer than normal. They were all given strange looks, but mostly ignored...until they came to a stop outside Hoskins' office. Then, a couple of the officers seemed to realize who they were and hurriedly backed away. Like a ripple effect, everyone else started to move as well. By the time Hoskins called for them to enter, they had a significant sized bubble around them. It was almost a relief to step into the office.

“Team Leader,” Admiral Hoskins growled, glaring at the small group. “I did not summon Red Team.” There was nothing she could say, so she stood still. At least, to anyone else, she was still. Hoskins didn't understand the Athenian language any more than anyone else, but he knew enough to know she was cussing out her teammates. “Enough. Your mission was a success, but the injuries you received are unacceptable.” He glared at the female specifically, taking in the bruises and scrapes across her face. “I'd thought to punish you for such an overwhelming failure, but it doesn't seem you have an uninjured section left on your body. To that end, I shall wait for you to recover.” Not a very comforting thought, but then, he hadn't meant for it to be. “These Spartans are a bigger threat than we had originally anticipated. I've sent teams to extract information on this unit, but nothing has come through. Any Insurrectionist that has fought them has either been killed or captured, except for your soldiers. Report everything you know about them.”

“We've identified twenty-four individual soldiers, though we've heard of some we haven't met,” Klare answered sharply. “They have enhanced strength and speed. The armor is partially responsible for those enhancements; damage to the armor will weaken them, but they remain above the standard level for humans. Their understanding of tactics and strategy is more advanced than the average soldier. From reports, they are trained in all weaponry, including Covenant technology.”

“So they're unbeatable,” Hoskins snarled in disgust, throwing a stack of papers onto his desk.

“I never said that,” the redhead disagreed, hiding her wince when she realized she was contradicting him. The look she received promised large amounts of pain, but he remained silent. “The Spartans are barely proficient in vehicles; they prefer to walk. The farther off the ground they get, the more uncomfortable they are. They struggle to adjust when missions take sharp turns; it seems they don't handle snags very well. With few exceptions, they appear to shift teams around, which leads to a lack of cohesion and team efficiency. Their loyalty to each other is higher than expected for soldiers; the closest example I can think of is the Athenian loyalty.”

Hoskins gave her a look of surprise for that one. No one knew better than he how loyal her soldiers were to each other. “I fail to see how that is a weakness, Team Leader.”

“It's a weakness because if we can bring down one of them, the others will stall,” she answered easily. “Despite their enhanced speed, they are not as fast as we are. Most times, they can't land a blow. If we can stall the group, we can get in and out without damage.”

“I see,” the Admiral mused, calm at last. Like most Insurrection officers, he was only happy when he knew how to fight the battle. Being faced with an enemy that presents as unbeatable would have driven him crazy. “Your Athenians have been causing quite a bit of chaos for the UNSC. It makes sense that you'd learn the most. That information is enough to build on, but we need more.” He gave her a look of warning. “Can your men get it for us?”

“Yes, sir,” she said without hesitation. “Yellow and Purple could get the bios of every Spartan if given enough time.”

“Then why haven't they?” Hoskins barked, flinging a basket of papers at her. She was expecting the move and was braced, though the edge of the basket did reopen a wound on her face.

“You assigned them to other missions, sir,” she replied calmly, not allowing a shred of emotion through, despite the blood running down her face. “They've had no time to spare on unassigned work.”

“I see,” he muttered, getting back to his feet and moving to a large map of the sector they were in. His attention was focused on the planet of Emerald Cove. The sector was clear of UNSC and Covenant forces, but it likely wouldn't stay that way for long. “Pull them from their previous assignments; I'll give those missions to the Insurrectionists that are supposed to be working for a living. Until further notice, Purple and Yellow teams are assigned to information gathering on the Spartans. I expect a report every day; a comprehensive report every week.”

“Yes, sir,” Klare said sharply, snapping a salute and hearing her men echo the movement. They were dismissed with a negligent wave of the hand and were gone before Hoskins could change his mind. If Owen or Kenton noticed how Klare made her way through the halls at a slightly increased speed compared to normal, they said nothing. However, before she could reach her quarters, Owen subtly moved to herd her in another direction. He didn't reply to her silent question, but he also refused to move, forcing her to keep walking.

'You're pushing your luck,' she hissed as they reached on of the larger barrack rooms. It had been the original quarters for the entire Athenian unit, but they'd since been separated into more private accommodations. Regardless, the large space was left unoccupied, for the rare occurrence that the soldiers had to be kept in one place. Officially, at least. Unofficially, it was the room the Athenians used when they needed to all meet. In the past, Klare had always been the one to call the meetings, but apparently not this time.

'We'd planned this meeting before your mission; we were going to fill you in when we returned,' Kenton cut in, giving his leader a look he knew she couldn't stay angry at. 'The Spartans have an excellent information sharing network; we need to improve ours.' She wanted to argue, she really did, but he was right. Their enemy was staying one step ahead of them and that was unacceptable. Things needed to change.

'Fine,' she huffed, keying the door open and striding in. As expected, her soldiers were scattered about the room, relaxed if the knives in their hands were ignored. “Yellow Team, Purple Team,” the redhead barked, noting the six soldiers instantly perk up. “Hoskins has removed you from your current assignments; from this point on you are to focus on gathering every scrap of information on the Spartans that you can.” They saluted, eyes alight with excitement. Their previous work had been time-consuming but not exactly a challenge. “Now, I've been informed we need to improve our information network. Any ideas how?”

“Not until you've been patched up,” Luke cut in, glaring lightly. “You're still bleeding.” He didn't budge as she glared, but then again, he was the head of the medical group. There wasn't a single living creature that could get him to back away from a patient. So after a short, silent war, the redhead sighed and nodded, sitting on the nearest bunk and not complaining when Luke crawled up to sit behind her. She did give a warning rumble to the others, spurring them into hurried conversation. After removing her uniform and sitting in just her underclothes so her 'doctor' could reach everything, she took the time to really observe her men. Sometimes she felt like they were becoming strangers, they were all kept so busy. In fact, it was the first time they were all in the same room in over a year.

There were ten teams, each made up of three Athenians; two males and a female. Each group had a specialty and were sent on missions that matched their skills, although exceptions weren't as rare as some might expect. The members were assigned tasks within the groups by titles; One, Two, and Three. Member One was always the person to run the actual mission. Member Two was backup, standing at the ready to finish the mission if One failed. Member Three stayed away from combat completely, in a small computer nest that allowed them to monitor the entire mission. It was an unconventional practice, but one they had refined across the various groups. Groups that she couldn't possibly love more.

Blue Team, the cleanup team. Their skills were varied, but they needed to be. It was the only way to ensure they could do their job of keeping the Athenian movements and actions secret, no matter how badly the other teams screwed up. They were the same as they had been on the trip to Parangosky, other then Benjamen and Elizabeth having matching haircuts. It made them look more like twins than they already had. They even had matching scars across the bridges of their noses, though Elizabeth's was new. A gift from an angry Spartan. Dejon was also looking a bit worse for wear, though his was a simple cheek bruise. Which, oddly enough, didn't come from the Spartans, but rather from Dejon's trainer. Hoskins wasn't the only officer that preferred physical punishments.

Purple Team, her hacking group. If there was digital knowledge, Purple would find it, even if it was 'deleted' or 'untraceable'. Klare was willing to bet the three members spoke binary amongst themselves. Ivan, 126, Purple One. With his pale blonde hair and bright blue eye, he had the look of innocence down to an art form, if the scar over his right cheek was ignored. Like most of the group, he was much more dangerous than he looked; he was a wizard with knives and could handle four of them at once. Adhira, 129, Purple Two. No one would ever argue that Adhira wasn't just as good a hacker as her two partners, lest they suddenly find themselves transferred to a very undesirable post. However, with her silky black hair, the tips dyed a royal purple, and her deep black eyes, it was a simple matter to convince others to do the hacking for her. If the batting of a couple eyelashes didn't do it, a knife across the throat usually did. Peter, 009, was Purple Three. Unlike the structure of the other teams, he was the one to spearhead most of Purple's missions. When he was deep into hacking, he'd tug at the purple section of his bangs, though he never grabbed so much as a single strand of his blonde hair. His hazel eyes also had a tendency to go a bit cross-eyed, though he denied it.

Pink Team, the speedsters. No one was faster, no matter what subject was being discussed. Physical speed, one-liners, sarcasm, anger, dodging responsibilities. Like Blue Team, they looked almost the same as they had six months before. Quin and Alexander were still sniping over something petty and unimportant while Jennifer watched, looking torn between laughing and bashing their skulls in. Preferably with a dull sword.

Black Team, the assassins. Every Athenian was trained in the art of assassination, but Black Team turned it into something special. To them, it wasn't a job. It was a life. Mira, 020, Black One. She kept her blonde hair long, the tips varying between dark grey and pitch black, depending on which section she chose to dye. Despite her specialty, she didn't care that her chosen hairstyle kept half her face covered, allowing only one corn-blue eye to gaze at the world. That was mostly because her left eye was blind, thanks to an especially pissed off trainer. Cody, 056, was her partner as Black Two. Anything she didn't see, he did, though there wasn't much that she didn't catch. He could have been her younger brother; they shared the blue eyes and blonde hair. If it wasn't for his naturally darker tan complexion and her pasty skin, it would be impossible to swear they weren't related. If they were siblings, Johan, 119, was their crazy cousin. As Black Three, he didn't get in the field very often, but that was probably a good thing. Mira and Cody kept their kills clean. Johan was more likely to paint entire rooms with bloody designs just to have something to do.

Yellow Team, her information hounds. Unlike Purple Team, the information Yellow gathered came from actual people. All three had incredibly average looks in order to blend into crowds. Sora, 106, Yellow One. Most people weren't able to tell if he was a blonde with brown dyed hair or a brunette with yellow dyed hair. Well, most people not in the Athenian corps. His dark brown eyes were sharp enough to not miss any details, making him the best at picking up non-verbal information. Arden, 026, couldn't look more non-threatening if she tried. She kept half her head shaved in a popular style for women her age, though it did make it hard to tell which side was dyed and which was her natural blonde hair. Combined with baby blue eyes, and she resembled a doll more than a soldier. By comparison, Adam, 102, looked like a soldier. His brown hair was cut short, with just a thin streak deviating from the uniform color. His eyes were standard hazel, though the scars over his right eye made him look a bit more dangerous. It helped to get him onto military bases, which made him the go-to man for military information.

Green Team, the sabotage team. As far as open combat went, they were rarely involved. It was more common to find them slinking about behind the enemy lines, though any sighting of them was usually followed by a very large explosion. Sean, 070, Green One. He had a long scar over his left eye from a piece of shrapnel he hadn't thought to dodge. With his mousy brown hair and dark eyes, it gave him a very rougish look. Too bad his quiet and sweet personality didn't match up; it made it very difficult to have him infiltrate places where he had to interact with others. Henry, 036, Green Two. His face was covered in little scars, each and every one from Klare's knives. Back in training, the two of them had been the two candidates to be the head of the Athenians. They'd been arch enemies and constantly fought. The redhead ultimately became Team Leader by majority vote, but it didn't hurt that she beat the crap out of Henry every chance she got. Lois, 098, Green Three. Possibly the most unique hairstyle of the Athenians; she had multiple green strips scattered throughout her blonde hair. Unlike the other groups, who kept the color of dye standard amongst the members, Lois had chosen a shade that matched the color of her eyes while her teammates went a couple levels darker.

Orange Team, her medical group. The only group that never went into combat, unless it was to recover an Athenian that was stupid enough to get hit bad enough that they couldn't make it back to safety. To that end, they didn't carry more than three knives each, though they had enough scalpels and syringes to arm an entire company of medics. Because of the uniqueness of their team, their rankings were specially tailored as well. Austin, 076, the Doctor. He handled any Athenian that managed to get sick, though it was a very rare occurrence. However, the look of disgust in his grey eyes and the way he would flick the orange locks back from his face made most of his unit mates feel it would be easier to simply die from a cold. Luke, 099, the Medic. His specialty was in treating combat injuries, like lacerations and bullet wounds. Despite sharing the brown and orange hair color with Austin, his eyes were a stunning shade of gold that made most people uncomfortable to meet. His temper was usually reliant on how the injury he was treating was received. A wound, because the enemy was better, was met with gentleness and quiet words. An injury from stupidity resulted in heavy hands and sharp sounds. No injury? Not worth his time. Then there was the final member; Mary, 074, the Surgeon. She was as soft-spoken as the other Athenians were not. Many a soldier woke from surgery to her quiet voice. The fact that she was insulting their intelligence and judging them with her ice blue eyes negated any good feelings the peaceful awakening might have given.

Grey Team, the infiltration experts. Of all the teams, they were the most beat up unit. The Insurrection used them the most, which meant they ran into the Spartans more than any others. They all bore some sort of bruise or laceration, though Sonja was the worst off; her left leg was in a splint and she was barely able to maintain an Athenian walking pace. Dean's face was bruised and Jason couldn't lean against anything without reopening the wound on his back. He, at least, had paid his attacker back for the damage done to him. Somewhere out in the galaxy, a Spartan was likely still limping with a severed Achilles tendon.

White Team, the liaisons between the Athenians and the main Insurrection army. Though the Athenians usually worked separate from the standard soldiers, on occasion teamwork was needed. That's where White Team came in. Like Red Team, the group's name was almost a joke handed down from Command, considering each of them had pitch black hair and dark blue eyes. Carris, 137, White One, and Klare's closest female friend. She was so good at reading people and diffusing situations, when she had been captured by the UNSC a month before, she'd talked them out of executing her and then knifed them all in the back and escaped unharmed. Awinita, 134, White Two, and the only Athenian to be assigned to a standard Insurrection unit. It was accidental, of course, and Hoskins had fixed it fast enough, but the elite group still found it amusing. And the young man took an odd sense of pride that he was able to fit in with the average soldier so well that he was mistaken for one of them. Christopher, 095, White Three; the only Athenian to be drafted by the UNSC military. He never said how he'd been drafted or how he'd escaped four months later, but just a vague reference to the event was enough to send him into a blushing and stammering fit. For that reason, they only brought it up in private. It did make him as close to an expert as they had on UNSC procedure, though.

And then there was Red Team, her own men. It didn't matter that their only job was to fill in the holes that the others left behind, they were her brothers. Owen, Red Two, her silent shadow, and the ultimate support. He would go through hell for her and had done so on several occasions. It was killing him, almost literally, to have to stand back whenever the Spartans got a bead on Klare, but they were under strict orders to keep their operation methods as secret as possible. That meant leaving the active Athenian alone unless it became a matter of life-and-death, and possibly beyond even that. It wasn't Owen she was worried about, though. It was Kenton, Red Three. He'd kept her and Owen safe for years by watching over their missions and had never failed to catch a threat before it could reach them. Now the Spartans were finding ways around his methods. Despite his easy smile and quiet personality, the small Brit was beyond protective and had a tendency to blame himself for everything that went wrong. If he didn't run into a Spartan soon, he'd likely self-combust and become little more than a shaking mass in the corner. If he did find a Spartan, there would be blood everywhere and he'd likely be charged with seven or eight versions of inhumane cruelty in a war-zone.

“Turn,” Luke said gently, shifting backwards so that Klare could shift. The tightness around his eyes warned of his true feelings, but he was careful to cause minimal pain as he stitched her wounds closed. Around them, the other Athenians compared notes on the Spartans, ignoring the small group huddled over a collection of computers in the corner. At the rate information was flying around the room, any tiny scrap of knowledge would be known to all before Luke had finished patching her up. “Lift your arm; you have a laceration on your ribcage.” That was going to hurt. “And stop flinching, or I'll start poking the wounds on purpose.”

“Because that's great incentive to make me stay put,” the redhead muttered, but she also steeled herself to stop reacting. That didn't stop her from grinding her teeth as he started stitching the wound closed. The knife injuries were what angered her most. Knives were Athenian weapons; they were the lifeline that all of her men relied on. In the entire Insurrection, there was no one better in the use of blades, and they'd never met their match in the UNSC or the Covenant. Even the Spartans, for all their prowess in weaponry, rarely resorted to using knives and whenever they did, the use was clumsy and easy to counter. So to be so badly injured by a Spartan knife was inexcusable.

“Team Leader?” Klare glanced over at Mira, noting the tilt of her head; meant she wasn't going to like what she was about to hear. “The boys and me have been talking, and we wanna take a crack at them Spartans. Wanna give permission?” It was physically painful to hold in the look of incredibility, so the redhead didn't try. She knew that every member of her unit could speak perfectly when they needed to, but Black Team took perverse pleasure in mangling Standard every chance they got. That knowledge didn't lessen her amusement or frustration at the practice.

“Absolutely not,” she answered easily, knowing that everyone was listening. “We've received no orders for Spartan assassinations and I'm not volunteering any of us on a suicide mission.” It was nearly hilarious, watching the three black marked soldiers start pouting. “If we get enough information on the unit, I'll pitch the mission. So the sooner you start working, the sooner you'll get your chance.” No one knew better than her that the Athenians were very lethal, but no one else saw when her soldiers turned into overgrown, excitable puppies. She was shocked every time that tails didn't pop out and start wagging.

“And that's why you're the Leader,” Luke chuckled, voice warm with fondness that he didn't hand out easily. He did shake his head when she gave him a look of confusion, though he was smiling. “What is it now?”

“I'm Leader because Command said I was,” she argued.

“You're Leader because we all elected you,” he countered, finishing off the stitching of one wound and moving to the next. “Remember? Command chose Adam because he was easy to control and we all refused; pointed to you when the officers demanded to know who we _would_ follow. And we chose you because you know how to handle all of us. I mean, look at them.” She did, letting her eyes roam over the people that had claimed her heart. “We're diverse, we're dangerous, and we're likely to kill faster than most people can blink. To put it in simple terms, we're a powder keg. But you manage all of us like we were the most docile of sheep.”

“'Docile' and 'sheep' are two words I would never apply to any of you, unless the word 'not' is before them,” Klare drawled, giving him a look, though she couldn't hide the happiness his words were inspiring. “It's easy to keep you all happy.”

“Tell that to all of the trainers we killed,” he laughed, gold eyes glinting. “You just make it look easy. Like that thing with Mira just now. Black Team kill for a living, literally. Anyone else tells them no, they'd get a slit throat. You do it and you just get pouted at.”

“They trust me. You all do. If I make a decision, you believe I'm doing it for your benefit.” She tried not to pull away as he placed the last stitch on the gash in her leg. At this rate, she was going to look like a mummified Frankenstein monster.

“Tell me you don't, then,” Luke smirked as he packed his gear away. “Tell me one decision you've made that wasn't for our benefit.” She couldn't; there wasn't one. “Alright, you can leave the nurses office and go back to recess, but stay off the basketball court or I'll put you in detention.” That one deserved a groan and a shove, which she gave gladly.

“Team Leader, you need to see this,” Lois called from her small group, a small frown on her face. “We've got a pattern.” That brought her to her feet fast enough, but she hadn't managed three steps before the light went out and the room started flashing red. For a fraction of a second, all any Athenian could do was stare. This...wasn't happening...right?

“Suit up, get to the launch bay, now!” she barked, out the door before anyone else could get to their feet. One benefit of having a nearly empty ship was that she didn't need to control her speed. Flicks were out of the question, she wouldn't risk damaging the ship, but Athenian running was still very fast. Her skin was crawling with the need to reach her armor, but she had a bigger priority just then. She needed orders, and only Hoskins could provide those.

Of course, she wasn't the only soldier looking for orders from the Admiral. The floor that held his office was full of activity; officers rushing about giving orders while every other soldier tried to stay out of their way. However, everyone made room for her as she ran through; the long sword in her hand probably helped. It certainly cleared the office fast enough. “You're late, Team Leader,” Hoskins growled, but the tone of his voice told her she was safe. He was just going into crisis mode; everyone was getting snapped at. “The UNSC has started a major offensive. They've hit multiple targets at once. Your teams will be scattered to cover as much as possible. List is on the desk.” She grabbed the indicated padd and glanced over it. Easy enough. With the proper ships, her men could get to all of the battles within a day. Surely the Insurrectionists could hold on that long. Then she saw where Red Team was assigned and frowned. Of course, the one time she really needed her Training Instructor to miss her reaction, he caught it right away. “Is something wrong, Athenian?”

“You've assigned Red Team to Emerald Cove,” she replied, forcing her voice to remain even. “I believe we'd be of more use on a different planet.”

“You're injured, Team Leader,” the Admiral bit back. “I need Athenians on the ground in as many battles as we can get. Emerald Cove has a large number of boots on the ground to keep the Spartan threat low.” If Klare had been a dog, her hackles would have raised. She was Athenian; she didn't require _babysitters_. Not that she could come out and say that. “Will that be all, Team Leader?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then go.” She saluted sharply, spinning nearly on a dime to run back out of the office. It was the work of seconds to reach the lift and run to her quarters. Took significantly longer to pull her armor back on and quickly send out orders over the COM. She had to slow to an Athenian jog to avoid harming any passing soldiers. By the time she reached the launch bay, her Team was alone.

“Load up,” she barked, not pausing her jog until she was on the dropship. Kenton and Owen scrambled after her, radiating confusion. “Pilot, go!” For a moment it looked like the young soldier would have a heart attack, but he had the ship up and pulling out of the bay in a matter of seconds. It was impressive; most pilots soiled their pants when she yelled at them. If he didn't die, she'd have to see about having him assigned to be her pilot permanently.

'Team Leader?' Owen huffed quietly, catching the female's attention. 'Our orders?'

“We're assigned to Emerald Cove,” she said aloud over their private COM. “The UNSC has hit multiple points; we're being scattered to hold as many battles as we can reach. There's a high chance of Spartan presence, so we need to keep our guard up.”

“They're sending you in injured?!” Kenton growled, bristling in fury. “Is Hoskins _trying_ to kill you off?”

“We're being sent to Emerald Cove _because_ I'm injured,” Klare barked back, barely resisting the urge to hurl a knife at something breathing. She valued her teammates and they needed the pilot. “On the planet, we'll have an army for _backup_.” Even with the armor, she knew they were snarling. If Hoskins only knew how dangerous it was to step on their pride like he was...he'd probably do it more often. “Remember, we are only down there to push the UNSC back. No side missions; no assassinations.”

“Understood, 113,” Owen cut in, carefully getting close and clapping a hand on her shoulder. “We'll send the soldiers packing within the hour.” Over-confidant, certainly, but it's what she needed to hear, and she recognized that fact. For that, she decided not to gut him.

“For this mission, we aren't using our SoP,” she said instead, gently pushing her friend towards the seats. “We're all going in fighting, and we will not be sticking together. Take out any UNSC soldier you come across, but keep watch for Spartans. If one is seen, signal the rest of the team and we'll rendezvous and take the enemy out together. Understood?” Two quite clicks echoed through her helmet. “Then settle in until we land.” The boys took their seats silently, carefully checking that each of their blades was in its proper place. It was almost a full-time job; each Athenian outside of Orange Team carried seventy-five separate blades. The weapons were well made, crafted by masters and with materials that never broke. Honestly, the worst the Athenians could do to the blades was lose them, and they fought against that scenario with everything they had. In fact, Alexander had run back into a raging battle to get a single throwing knife once. Klare just about murdered him for that stunt.

While the dropship entered Emerald Cove's atmosphere and the boys counted weapons, the female stood in the middle of the dropship, silently fuming. Luke was the best at first aide, but she would be pushing his patch job to the max this time. It would be a miracle if she didn't tear every damn stitch he'd just used on her. And she couldn't shake the feeling that there were Spartans waiting for her team. The damn electricity was dancing right under her skin, driving her mad. If it was a warning of danger, she could only assume that the amount of energy was telling her she was about to die. Actually...

“Hold on!” she roared, grabbing the hull a second before the ship rocked violently. Alarms started blaring from the cockpit as fire danced over the glass, indicating a fireball that could have only been caused by an exploding engine. The pilot was yelling something, but Klare couldn't focus on his words. All her focus was on holding her position to avoid getting thrown about the bay. Kenton and Owen were no better; the larger redhead was plastered against the seats for a grip and the smaller was holding on to the larger. It would have been comical, if it hadn't been so dangerous.

“Brace for impact!” the pilot warned, giving the Athenians just enough warning to lift themselves slightly in the air to lessen the jolt of the landing as the ship struck the ground. It didn't help much, but it meant bad bruises instead of broken bones. The screech of the dropship tearing itself to shreds around them was deafening, even with the noise dampeners in the helmets. An especially loud roar signaled the entire starboard side of the ship ripping away. Unfortunately, it was the starboard side that Klare had been holding onto. She was flung away from the hunk of metal like a child throwing a skipping stone. Come to think of it, she landed like one too, bouncing off the ground several times before skidding to a very painful stop.

“Ow,” the redhead groaned, slowly pushing herself off the ground. Luke was going to kill her himself for pulling his stitches. “Red Two, Red Three, report. Now.”

“ _Red Two. Alive, uninjured._ ”

“ _Red Three. Alive, dislocated left shoulder. I'm with the pilot; he is alive and uninjured, just shaken._ ”

“Send him south,” she ordered shortly, knowing they weren't on the main continent of the planet. There would be no military backup, but why drop them on a minor island? Feeling electricity dancing up her neck, she realized just how bad the situation was. “We've got company.” Her men were at her side before she'd managed to get fully to her feet. They were just in time, too, as three large suits of armor stepped out of the palm fronds. “This day is just getting better and better. Two, on the left, one meter back. Three, right, five meters back. Don't get involved unless we can't handle them.” Two clicks. If they could move fast enough, they might be able to take out the enemy.

Sadly, it looked like the Spartans had the same idea, though they didn't spread out as much. Clearly, they were learning. In past missions, Spartans that split up got taken out quickly. Their large size wasn't much help against Athenian speed and numbers, but keeping close made them much harder to take out. After all, fights between Spartans and Athenians was like battles between rhinos and squirrels. It all depended on how fast each team could hit and the power behind the strikes. “ _Team Leader, I have positive ID on two of the Spartans. 005, 029. Don't know much about 005; we've only met him once. 029 is slow for a Spartan, but he's got a powerful left hook. They're both good marksmen._ ”

“Mission cameras on; focus on 005 and the new one, 093,” she ordered, watching the enemy warily. If they struck first, her men would be relegated to defense. “Keep fast; don't take a strike unless you can cause serious damage. Do _not_ get within reach unless you're damn sure you can get away. Three, I see you edging up, get your ass back-” 029 suddenly leapt forward, forcing Klare to dodge to the left then she barely dodged a strike from 093. Damn knives again! “Two, move!” 005 was nearly on her, but Owen blindsided it, smashing into the armored side to push the soldier away and leaving behind a dagger in a vulnerable spot. Clearly, he was the bigger threat, and the Spartans turned to face him. Which was a mistake on their part, as it gave the female a chance to drive one of her longer blades into 093's leg through an armor gap before leaping away. By the time the UNSC soldiers had realized what was happening, the Athenians had fallen back and regrouped.

“ _Is anyone else getting the impression that 093 wants to blow us up?_ ” Kenton drawled, reluctantly staying behind his partners. “ _I mean, I may be grasping at straws, but I feel like we're in danger of being blown off this planet._ ”

“ _Yeah, and is it just me, or does the one on the right look like the kinda person that would steal your ice cream?_ ” Owen quipped, his mirth obviously forced but no one called him on it.

“ _It does, doesn't it? How do we know this?_ ”

“It doesn't matter,” Klare snapped, watching the enemy closely. “We're going to take them out, regardless of if our ice cream is at risk. Three, switch to analyzing. Call shots as you see them. Two, you're faster than me right now. Keep them distracted. Prick attacks; bleed them out. I'll hit deeper.” Her partners weren't happy with that, but they held their tongues and she truly was thankful for it. Every ounce of her attention was on the Spartans. Would they strike first again? Would she have to move? The Insurrectionists were waiting for her; they couldn't play with the armored soldiers. “Give them five more seconds, then hit.”

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

“Go!” Owen was already a blur, dashing towards the slight gap in the group. They dodged, two left and one right. The female Athenian was on the right Spartan, 005, faster than it could get its feet under it. A flash of silver and she was jumping away again, leaving behind a dagger. If she got off the planet alive, the weaponsmiths were going to have her hide for losing so many blades. 093 was heading over to protect 005, so Klare ducked a second knife slash and flung another dagger to hit 029 just beneath the shoulder. Then she had to make a fast retreat, covered by the still running Owen.

“ _005 drops its left guard slightly. Use that to land a hit._ ”

The female frowned; she hadn't seen any dropped guards. “Three, how do you know that?”

“ _No idea; just use it._ ” That...wasn't good. Actually, that was very, very bad. The last thing any of them needed was to get ghost memories of Spartans. That meant they knew the soldiers somehow. Names, faces, favorite foods, that didn't matter. Knowing the enemy...that was bad.

But the middle of a battle wasn't the place to have this revelation. “Two, work me around to 005's left side. Keep the others off me.”

“ _029 is faster than expected,_ ” he admitted, voice tight. “ _093 is down with your blade in its leg and 005 isn't a threat right now, but we need to bring 029 down. Team Leader, we need to flick._ ” Those words made her grind her teeth. When Kenton didn't argue, Klare knew that these Spartans hadn't experienced flicks before, which was in the Athenians' favor. It was the redhead's experience that knowing about flicks didn't help; no one could prepare for a flick without having fought it before. A flick would take out 029, yes, but Spartans learned fast. The trick wouldn't work a second time, and the most dangerous Spartans were the soldiers that lost teammates.

“Denied,” she barked, feeling a surge of electricity race up her back. “No flicks until we can take them all out. Three, drive 029 to me. I'll hit it-”

“ _Left!_ ” Klare and Owen dashed left, barely missing the plasma bolts that hit where they had been. “ _We've got company!_ ” From the barks, yells, and raining plasma bolts, they were being hunted by Grunts and the Spartans were under attack as well. Lovely. Covenant was an equal opportunity killer whenever humans were concerned.

“Three, to us!” she barked, taking shelter behind the remains of the dropship. Two black blurs and her partners were at her back. The Grunts were still firing, and she could see the Spartans struggling. She hated the very idea of what she was about to do, but six enhanced soldiers stood a better chance of survival against attacking aliens than three did. So, cursing herself internally the entire time, she triggered her armor's exterior speakers and yelled, “Spartans! To us!” There was a second where no one reacted, but then the hulking humans came running over, crouched behind the mess of metal that had once been a ship. “Our chances are better together. Truce until our mutual enemy is defeated?” Silence, long and dragging.

“ _I'm Green One,_ ” a male voice finally said, coming from 005's speakers. “ _Green Two,_ ” a gesture towards 093, “ _and Green Three._ ” 029.

“Red One, Red Two, Red Three,” Klare said shortly, indicating her own teammates. “This shelter won't last any more than five minutes under this barrage. Any ideas?” 093 instantly perked up.

“ _Other than a massive explosion,_ ” 029's voice drawled, also male. 093 nearly _drooped_ at that, completely unaware of the uneasy glances the Athenians threw each other. So 093 likes explosions...just like Kenton had guessed.

“ _Your team is speed based, correct, Red One?_ ” 005 cut in, voice focused. There was a steadiness to the sound that the Athenian female knew she could trust...and she hated the feeling. She settled for nodding. “ _Catch their attention; we'll hit from behind?_ ” Reluctantly, she liked the plan, for multiple reasons. First, it capitalized on all their strengths. Second, it kept her men at a distance. Third, he didn't make it an order. Huge points in his favor. “ _Link up COMs temporarily?_ ” Another good idea. She sent him the frequency with a signal burst and a few seconds later the Spartans had linked in.

“Red Three, find a vantage point, call shots and locations for everyone,” Klare said quickly, mind racing. “Red Two, you and I,” yes, she noticed the glare he sent her and she was ignoring it, “will draw the Covenant out into the open. Spartans, hit them from behind. Hit any of us, truce is off.” The armored soldiers nodded. “Arm up.” Owen had a dagger in each hand before she'd finished.

“ _How many knives do you carry?!_ ” 029 muttered, though he was looking around the edge of their shelter to keep eyes on their attackers. “ _If it weren't for the armor, I'd look like a bloody pincushion...and I'm not cursing._ ” Klare snorted, honest-to-god snorted, and was horrified by the very sound. Owen and Kenton actually spun and stared at her, no doubt gaping from within their helmets. Red Team Leader, Klare, 113, did. Not. Laugh. She sure as hell didn't snort. This was officially beyond bad and straight into catastrophic.

“We carry enough to get the job done, Spartan,” she said shortly. “On my count, Two.” But she didn't count aloud. Instead, she used their silent language, not wanting to give the Spartans more warning than she had to. So when they bolted, they left behind three very startled soldiers and one silently cackling Athenian. At least someone was amused.

“ _They're faster than Kelly,_ ” a soft female voice said over the COM, startling Klare so bad she nearly tripped while dodging a plasma shot. So 093 was a girl. Good to know, but just then was not the time.

“ _Don't tell her that; she'll be pissed,_ ” 029 joked. Were all Spartans this chatty? “ _Uh...did that high kick look familiar to you?_ ” Must be in reference to the kick Owen just gave a Grunt that got too close and...wait...they were familiar to the Spartans? How?! That was a signature Owen move!

“ _Yeah, and the headache I got when it was used on my felt familiar too. Anyone else having deja-vu?_ ”

“ _Random Insurrectionists in armor attacking us at high speed with knives and then getting mobbed by Covenant? No, can't say this has happened before...unless Mendez did something like this once._ ” Another twitch from Klare, this one much more pronounced. Mendez. Why did she react to that name? And not just her; Owen had stumbled as well and she'd heard Kenton give a little gasp. With every passing moment, it looked more and more like they had a connection to these Spartans.

“ _You're right_ ,” 005 suddenly drawled, cutting straight through the chatter as the Athenians drew the enemies into position. “ _That's totally what it is! Except for the SPI armor...and the knives...and the speed...and the killing intent...and the aliens...other than that, this is just like Mendez. Now focus!_ ”

“Green One, on my call,” Klare said sharply, dodging another plasma blast. One good thing about the enemy being Grunts, they weren't very smart. “Hold...hold...now!” If she'd ever had doubts that the Spartans were dangerous, she lost them in a fraction of a second. The Grunts had been behind her and Owen, thinking they were chasing the humans, and then they were suddenly gone in a blur of gunfire and green armor. All that remained was bits of armor and blood...lots of blood.

“ _Suddenly glad we have a truce,_ ” Kenton muttered quietly over the COMs; a slight echo in his voice that indicated he was masking his voice from the Spartans. Good; Klare didn't want to give the enemy any more ID power than they already had. She was still about to chew him out for breaking the unofficial radio silence when a large mass suddenly crashed into her, throwing her to the side. There was a yell, from Owen but the female Athenian could see the rock she'd been standing beside suddenly vanish in a ball of boiling plasma. And the Spartan holding her did so in a way that left her cocooned. So she sent off a fast order to stand down before they hit the ground. By the time Owen had come to a stop and turned, the last Grunt had been killed and his leader was back on her feet.

“ _James!_ ” 093 yelled, running over at a speed that shouldn't be possible with a short sword sticking out of her leg. Would it be rude to ask for her blade back?

“ _I'm fine,_ ” 005, James, said, pushing himself off the ground. “ _It's like Greydowns all over again._ ”

“ _You and I remember Greydowns very differently,_ ” 029 muttered, jogging over. He was so focused on his teammate, he didn't notice the slight shimmer of air behind him. No one did...except Klare. Lucky for the Spartans, she hated owing people. Unluckily, she also hated giving warning. So the soldiers weren't aware she was moving at all until she was using 093 as a springboard; launching over the armor and colliding with an invisible mass. From the sudden roar and the line of pure fire that suddenly appeared down her side, she was guessing Elite.

“ _Team Leader!_ ” Owen yelled, but there was no time to call back. Her entire world had condensed to simply surviving. She was being flung around like a puppet on tangled strings, fingers straining to keep hold of what little purchase she had. There was a roaring in her ear that had to be the very angry alien she had in a death grip, but she could still hear the frantic calls from her soldiers. Yes, she knew they were telling her to let go, but the Elite had a sword out and was nearly as fast as her so she would stay right where she was in the 'unstabbable' zone, thank you.

The Elite suddenly jerked backwards, thrashing. An armored arm had quite simply appeared, pulling the alien's head back and giving it something much more pressing to deal with. “ _Red One, jump!_ ” Did she really trust the Spartan enough to do as he said?

Yes...she did.

What's about ten steps above catastrophic?

Twisting her body up, Klare managed to get her feet between her body and the alien to push herself free. The fire in her side flared dangerously as she hit the ground, but she managed to roll and get to her feet in time to see the Elite throw the Spartan that had been holding it. She saw movement from the corner of her eyes, indicating the presence of the other soldiers. Spartans were big and could take several hits, especially with their armor, but they could get seriously injured. Normally, that would be perfectly fine. However, in that moment, an injured Spartan would only draw more Covenant, which would make the entire situation harder on everyone. To keep her men safe, she had to keep the Spartans as whole as possible, which meant she had to keep them away. Which meant she needed to risk her own men. There was no way this wasn't going to go sideways.

“Red Two, status,” the redhead grunted, feeling that dangerous ache in her chest that indicated some kind of broken bone.

“ _I'm down, broken leg,_ ” was the pained answer. “ _Stepped in a hole._ ” Dammit! That left...

“Red Three,” Klare said reluctantly, shifting as the Elite spun around wildly. Very few aliens bolted when they were pinned; they preferred to attack. “You're up. Shields are weak under the jaw. One blade, in and out, and you do the same. You get hit, I'm gonna get you healed up and then I'll beat you to a bloody pulp, understood?”

“ _Understood, Team Leader,_ ” Kenton said quietly, a nervous edge to his voice that she outright hated. “ _I need ten._ ”

“You got it,” she promised quietly. “I'll keep its focus on me. Strike when you can.” Pushing the fire aside as much as she could, the Athenian curled before bursting forward. The Spartans were yelling at her, but she tuned them out. She would be in enough trouble for working with the enemy at all; it would be a million times worse if she started obeying them.

Seven seconds. The Elite swung its plasma sword at her and she ducked under, feeling the heat through her armor. SPI armor wouldn't stand up to that sort of weapon, which would explain the line of fire down her side. Luke murdering her would be a blessing.

Five seconds. She wanted to hit the bitch of an alien, but with its shields and armor, the punch would hurt her more than him. Instead, she swept a leg, unbalancing the creature. It didn't fall; that would have been expecting too much. It did become unstable, though.

Two seconds. If nothing else, she'd gotten its attention. The Elite had gone from choosing its next target to focusing completely on her. With Kenton's speed, he shouldn't have a problem getting in and finishing the job. What she was worried about was getting him out again.

Time.

Kenton was a blur to her, and she knew what to look for. She doubted the Spartans saw anything, because her smallest partner had done exactly what she'd said not to do. He'd flicked. His blade was barely a flash of light, disappearing and reappearing in the span of a fraction of a second. And then he was gone, just as she'd ordered, and the alien was dropping. By the time it had hit the ground, Kenton had vanished from the clearing, and he'd taken Owen with him. All that was left was herself and the armored soldiers. She took one last second to look at them, to memorize what she could, and then she spun and _ran_.

Trees flew past her as her feet dug into the sand. She could see on the HUD that the Spartans tried to follow, but she lost them in very little time. It only took a few seconds longer for Owen's and Kenton's markers to appear, and she turned slightly to follow them. Their speed was slow for Athenians, allowing her to reach them quickly and take Owen off of their smaller partner so they could all speed up. Although, where they were going was anybody's guess; they were on a small, tropical island. There weren't many places to hide. If things didn't change soon, they'd be tracked down.

“Athenians!” Klare came to a screeching halt, sand billowing out around her at the sudden stop. Their pilot was waving at them from the nearby dunes. “This way! Evac is incoming!” That didn't match what the redhead had been expecting; Hoskins wouldn't have sent them if he'd planned on pulling the Insurrectionists back out. Maybe the Covenant had changed things.

“Go!” she barked, spinning on her heel to head towards the pilot. Then, because there was no time, “Flick!” It must have looked like they teleported to that young soldier, but to his credit, he didn't yell or jump. In fact, she was pretty sure that he smiled at them. Definitely needed to keep him around.

“Extraction point is just over there,” the pilot said, turning and jogging to a small clearing nearby. “Pelican is coming in for evac; Admiral Hoskins is pulling us all out to let the UNSC and Covenant fight it out.” He'd barely finished before the roar of the dropship drowned out everything else. Klare watched it come in, feeling her nerves shaking but the electricity was silent. If the energy was some sort of danger sensor, which she was starting to believe it was, then they were safe for that moment. However, with Covenant and Spartans crawling all over the island, that safety wouldn't last. In fact...

“ _Team Leader; incoming!_ ” Spinning on her heel, the redhead saw what the alert was about. The Spartans were closing in fast. At the rate they were moving, they'd reach the group before the ship could take off again. So, time to improvise.

“Jump!” she yelled, looping her arm lower over Owen's waist to run and leap onto the descending craft. The landing was hard, but solid, and Kenton landed right beside her with the pilot slung over his shoulder. “Pilot, go!” Clearly, the soldier agreed, because the dropship suddenly accelerated. The Athenians actually stumbled at the rapid increase in speed, but they managed to stay aboard. Klare risked a glance over her shoulder to see the Spartans rapidly shrinking into the distance. Even if they had a dropship of their own, it would take them some time to get in the air to follow them. By that time, they'd have reached the Insurrectionist ship and they'd be long gone.

The ship was filled with soldiers, but there were a couple seats still open. Klare didn't hesitate to carry Owen to one of those seats and strapping him in, but she was surprised when she turned and saw that their pilot had given the other seat to Kenton. Another point in his favor. “Take a seat near the cockpit,” she ordered him gently, forcing her hands to stay away from the wound in her side. There was no need to broadcast weakness. It looked like the young soldier would argue, but he seemed to think better of it and finally nodded before obeying. That left the redhead standing alone, fighting down the pain and the nausea she felt from her wounds.

Quiet chatter from the cockpit told the Athenian that every Insurrection dropship was free and fleeing the system as fast as they could. Some were lost to Covenant fire, but space was clear where their ship was flying. The main ship had already sent them orders to make all haste to return, and they were quickly complying. It would take them several more minutes to reach safety, but she could start to relax.

“Athenian?” Turning to look over her shoulder, Klare focused on the pilot. He'd removed his helmet and was raking a hand through his red sweat-soaked hair, but his blue eyes were sharp and locked on her. “Are you alright?”

“That is not your concern,” she replied shortly. However, her instincts insisted that she shouldn't be as sharp, so she reluctantly continued, “But thank you for caring. What's your name?”

“Sergeant Warren O'Brien,” he said, giving her a small smile. “I've heard quite a bit about you, Team Leader. Hate to say it, but you don't look like you eat UNSC officers for breakfast.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” the Athenian huffed, turning around to face the hatch again as the alert came through the cabin that they were approaching the main ship. “No Athenian eats officers for breakfast; it would weigh us down too early in the day. We eat them for dinner.” The startled laughter behind her almost made the joke risk worth it. There was no time to continue the banter, though, as the dropship reached the main ship and maneuvered into the launch bay.

The ship had barely touched down, hatch opening, when a message popped onto Klare's HUD. It was a summons from Admiral Hoskins. “Red Three, get Red Two to medical,” she ordered. “I have to go report to the Admiral, then I'll join you.” They nodded reluctantly, Kenton supporting Owen as they lurched after the departing soldiers. O'Brien hesitated to leave, but she waved him off. It did remind her, however, to request he be assigned as Red Team's pilot on a permanent basis.

The halls weren't as crowded as normal, but there were certainly more soldiers than there had been when the Team had left. As she rushed through, she heard several whispers about how full medical was. Her soldiers would get priority, but from what she'd heard they were still going to lose people. No one had expected Covenant involvement, and the foot soldiers were paying for it.

Blood was trickling down her side as she stepped into the lift. She spared a moment to try and identify which wound was the source of the fresh blood, but it was a lost cause. The blood could have come from seven different wounds. Luke wasn't going to settle for murdering her. He'd consider it too fast.

Hoskins' office came into view, the door closed like usual. It started sliding open as she came close, as always, and she twisted her body to slide through the small gap. She'd done the action a million times and thought nothing of it. At least, not until a bullet suddenly hit her right arm, driving her to her knees as white fire shot up the limb. She could feel the lump of metal lodge beside bone, trapped by the armor. Instinct and training hit her like a brick, but secondary training overrode her first reaction to lash out. There wasn't a single room on the ship that had tighter security than the Admiral's office, which meant only people Hoskins trusted would have access. After a string of attacks like what the Insurrection had just suffered through, the only people allowed inside would be reporting and leaving. That narrowed the pool of people that could shoot her down considerably. Take into consideration the fact that she was hit at the exact right angle to ensure that she'd be in a ton of pain and very little damage and there was only one person knew her habits that well, and it was the one person she would never be able to lash out against.

“Team Leader,” Hoskins snarled, gun pointed squarely at Klare's face. “You teamed with the Spartans. Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you.”

“My team was confronted by a Spartan unit and we were engaging,” she bit out, hand clenched tightly against the wound. “We had a working combat plan and were preparing to use lethal force against them. Covenant attacked and I made the call that our chances of survival were greater working with the Spartans. The truce was only for the duration of the Covenant attack, after which we would resume our battle and we would kill them. However, the injuries we sustained fighting Covenant were too severe to continue our battle with the Spartans. With that in mind, I chose to retreat.” Her arm was burning, indicating the presence of some kind of toxin, a Hoskins trademark. She needed Luke, and he was assigned to some battle.

“You saved the Spartans,” he accused, eyes full of warning. “That goes beyond using them.”

“I attacked a Covenant threat in an attempt to save my men,” Klare snapped back, though she shrunk away the next second as she realized what she'd said. “The Spartan was in the way; that is all.”

“Oh really, so it wasn't because a Spartan had to save you?” the Admiral sneered. Dammit; she'd really screwed up this time.

“That had nothing to do with my attack on the Elite,” she panted, feeling the damn fire spread up her shoulder and through her chest. “I didn't ask for the Spartan to save me and I wasn't paying them back. The Elite was a threat and I was attempting to neutralize it. That. Is. All.” The weapon remained leveled at her head for several long seconds before lowering and being slid back into the holster.

“We'll be talking about this later, Team Leader,” he promised darkly, moving back to take his seat as his desk. “Just as we'll be talking about how you allowed yourself to be hit during the last mission. You are dismissed; go to medical before you bleed out.”

“Yes, sir,” she grunted, struggling to her feet as the blood kept pouring.

“And Team Leader.” She paused, knowing full well that she was swaying. “If you keep failing, I will find a new Team Leader for the Athenians. And we have no need for a failed Athenian.”

“I understand, sir,” the redhead promised before leaving the room, allowing the door to slide open fully for the first time. It took all of her concentration to make her way down the hall and into the lift, but once there she had to lean against the wall, unable to completely support her weight anymore. She had no idea how she was going to get all the way to medical, until the door opened and revealed a very rumpled, unarmored, and pissed Luke.

“I really should beat your ass, Team Leader,” the brunette growled, quickly slinging her arm around his shoulders and carrying her down the hall as fast as he could. “Angle yourself towards your quarters; I refuse to treat you in an unsecured area.”

“Should I be worried?” Klare tried to laugh. It came out more as a strangled gasp as her chest protested all the movement. “Wouldn't you normally kill me for something like this?”

“If I wanted to kill you I'd simply refuse to treat your wounds,” he muttered back irritably. The doors to her quarters came into view, guarded by an already bandaged Dean. Clearly, Red Team wasn't the only team to be pushed back. She was, however, surprised by the look of respect that the Grey Team leader gave her as Luke triggered the door. With the mentality of Athenians, she'd expected scorn over her loss to the Spartans. Obviously, she'd missed something.

Jason and Sonja were inside the quarters, knives ready until they saw who entered, and then they moved quickly to gather Luke's supplies. No one said anything as the Orange Team member helped Klare sit and remove her armor. There were a couple angry hisses at her new injuries, but his hands stayed gentle, increasing her surprise and concern. Her men were not supposed to be this nice to failures. “Come on, Team Leader,” Jason said quietly, sitting beside her with that bizarre look on his face. “We need to get the bullet out of your arm.”

“You shouldn't be this nice,” she said numbly, barely aware that Luke was moving her arm to remove the bullet. “Everyone should be angry.”

“Why?” the raven-haired boy asked. “You did what you were supposed to do; protected your team with the resources you had available. No one can blame you for the Spartans or Covenant.” There was a flaw in that logic, she knew it, but Luke had just jabbed her with a powerful sedative and her mind was drifting badly. “Rest, Team Leader. We've got you.” Darkness started creeping into her vision, and it was everything she could do to not fall over. Her last thought was how the Spartans could possibly know them...and why she wanted so badly to be with them again.

 


	4. The Questions

**The Questions**

Time: 1854\

July 17, 2537\

Aboard the _USF_ _Pearl Harbor_

 

“Dammit!” Klare roared, throwing her helmet at the wall as she stalked into their quarters, rage twisting her face. “Again! Those damn Spartans got away bloody again!” Knowing better than to try and calm her down, Owen and Kenton slipped in behind their friend, quietly making their ways to their bunks. They were both moving stiffly, still recovering from their last confrontation with the abnormally large soldiers, despite having nearly a week to heal. “Purple Team had them pinned and they still managed to slip out!” Bellowing her rage, the female redhead punched the wall, making a new, well-sized dent.

“Team Leader, Purple Team's ETA is 1950,” Kenton said quietly, wincing as she spun towards him, rage still in every line of her body. He didn't _think_ she would lash out at him, but there was always a chance. “Admiral Hoskins has also ordered you to report to him as soon as you can.”

“Which means right now,” she muttered, turning back to the wall and hitting it two more times. Stifling a sigh, Owen pulled a device out from under his bunk, muttering darkly about fixing dents. “Red Three, keep tabs on Purple,” Klare barked, quickly pulling off the blood-stained breastplate she was wearing and pulling a spare out of her closet. “Red Two, forget the wall. Make the rounds and gather every damn scrap of data the other Teams have on the enemy. There _has_ to be something new!”

“Yes, Team Leader,” the larger male answered, quickly jumping to his feet. His friend paused and gave him a fast once-over, something in her face changing. It wasn't what he'd expected, so he paused, letting her pull her thoughts together.

“Belay both orders,” the head Athenian sighed, slumping slightly. “Get cleaned up, treat wounds, get something to eat. Then follow the previous orders.”

“You got it,” Owen said, a soft smile in the corners of his mouth. “We'll take care of things on this end, Team Leader. Go dance with the Admiral.”

“Don't ever let him hear you say that,” the female shuddered, though the corners of her own lips were twitching upwards. “Get to work, both of you.” Taking their relaxed waves as 'salutes', she quickly slipped back out of the room and trotted through the halls.

Trusting the soldiers to get out of her way, Klare tried to brace herself for the battle she knew was coming. It was no secret that her Athenians were struggling with fighting the Spartans. Any advantage they'd had in the beginning was all but gone. Speed alone kept her soldiers alive, but it wasn't enough to save them from injury anymore. Black and Grey Teams were officially off duty from injuries; Green, Pink, Yellow, and Blue Teams had had to switch their Ones and Twos to keep active despite injuries; even her own Team was struggling with recovery. The only Teams that had come through the last few months virtually untouched were Orange, White, and Purple, none of which were combat Teams.

There had to be a way to get the advantage! Yes, the Spartans were well trained and well equipped. They had an understanding of tactics no one could match and their gear was second to none. They were unmatched in strength, height, endurance, and bullheadedness. If it wasn't for speed, the Athenians would have been wiped out. Now how could they use speed to beat these bastards?!

Dammit all, there had to be a way! Any way! She'd take flying monkeys just then, if that's what it took. There was no way she could let her soldiers down. Every one of them was depending on her, and she would _not_ betray that trust. Screw the rest of the Insurrection; they could all crash, die, and burn for all she cared. Her Athenians would get through this, or she would be the first to die.

Stepping out onto Hoskins' floor, the redhead dodged the last few soldiers in her way to reach the office door. She was just reaching out to push the buzzer when the door slid open, startling her. However, when she wasn't shot, she decided to risk stepping in. “Red One, reporting as ordered,” she announced as she crossed the threshold, painfully aware of the man sitting casually behind the desk. There had been a time when the sight of him would terrify her, and though she still feared and respected him, a strange emotion had started to wiggle its way into her view of the man.

Hatred.

For reasons she would probably never understand, she hated the man before her. It had come on suddenly, ever since he'd shot her in the arm...but it wasn't because of the wound. She was used to being injured by her instructor. The hatred was deeper...darker...from some part of her mind that had been silent for years. A corner of her psyche that had been dead before the mission to kill Parangosky.

Damn that mission to all the pits of Hell! Her life had been fine before then. There was no threat to her soldiers, her instructor was usually pleased with her, and everything made sense. She had no half-recalled memories; she didn't wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat from nightmares she couldn't recall; she wasn't doubting every damn choice she made. Before that mission, everything made sense.

“Team Leader,” the Admiral greeted, keeping his face tilted towards the desk as he signed yet another report. “Report.”

“Mission was a success, sir,” Klare said promptly, keeping her own gaze over his head and squarely on the wall before her. It didn't matter if the officer broke regulations; she had to obey. “Target was eliminated; the UNSC supply chain to the Heian cluster will be in disarray for the next several months.”

“I know the mission was a success, Athenian,” Hoskins said easily, glancing up with an innocent look that made her chest turn cold. “A simple assassination. It was a mission you could have completed when we pulled you out of cryo for the very first time; there was no way you could fail. I'd prefer a report on why we had to send your elite Team on such a worthless mission in the first place. Have we learned anything knew about the Spartans?”

“Not that I am aware of, sir,” the redhead had to answer, feeling the tremor begin in her hands as the man stood up and slowly moved around the room. “Red Two is currently gathering any new information we might have from the other Teams; I can get you a comprehensive report within the hour.”

“I didn't call for you in an hour, Team Leader,” the Admiral replied easily, moving behind her, completely aware of the fine sheen of fear sweat that she was suddenly doused in. “I called for you now. It's been a year, and all you've gotten me is a number and a potential training location. How do we kill them? How do we beat them? That's your mission, at the moment, and it looks like you are failing. Miserably. So please explain to me how a unit like yours has managed to fall so far and continue to fail when it's never happened before.”

“We're doing the best we can,” the female said, but she broke off with a cry as something thin and supple struck her cheek. A whip, her logical mind supplied while the rest of her brain screamed profanities. It had been a long time since she'd angered him this much.

“Thirty Athenians!” Hoskins roared, lashing out with the whip again, striking Klare across the face. “We have thirty Athenians and you haven't managed to kill a single Spartan!” She didn't say anything because there was nothing she could say. Everything he'd said was the truth; in nearly a year there were as many Spartans as there had been when they'd first fought them outside Parangosky's house. In fact, more Athenians had been injured in the last three months than in the first nine combined. “I expected more out of your soldiers, Team Leader.”

“We'll try harder, Admiral,” the redhead said, resisting the urge to spit the blood out of her mouth.

“Actually, I don't think you will,” the older man sneered. “Twelve times your men have had Spartans at their mercy, and each time they let them go.”

“The situations are never that simple,” the soldier argued, and she got another strike across the face that drove her to her knees. The whip was made of calf leather and wide, so there would be no scars from the lashes, but each stroke left trails of fire, especially the ones on her face. It was the Admiral's favorite toy, but he usually wasn't so aggressive with it. At the rate he was going, soft leather or not, she would scar.

“Admiral Hoskins,” a voice suddenly said from the door, making Klare freeze. She didn't like being surprised, but her trainer had not given her permission to move so she couldn't assess the new addition to the room. “Admiral Potchens is calling.”

“Get out, Team Leader,” the older officer barked, tossing his whip onto the desk as he finally turned away. “Your unit better start shaping up, or we'll have to reassess your fitness to command. Understood?”

“Yes, Admiral,” the redhead said through the mouthful of blood, knowing that she couldn't swallow or she'd throw up. That left spitting it out, but that would invite an even worse beating. Instead, she struggled to her feet and limped out of the room. The hallway was as busy as it usually was, but the soldiers gave her a wide berth despite her exposed face. In the last six months, it had become common knowledge that the Athenians were just normal humans, but that only made everyone fear them more. Nothing was scarier than a normal person that had above normal capabilities.

Actually, scratch that. Nothing was scarier than a pissed off Owen standing by the lift, waiting for her. “Not a word,” she said tightly, walking past him and managing to not growl when he followed. “Tell me we have something on the Spartans.”

“Nothing new since the last time you asked,” he answered easily, not giving off any sign that he was anything other than perfectly calm. That alone told her just how on edge he was. “31 active Spartans; trained on Reach; enhanced strength, speed, mental capabilities, and height; neural interfacing armor and extreme understanding of military tactics and weapons; each member has a designated number that can be used for identification. Green Team thinks they've heard chatter about a command Team, but we have no actual proof of their existence, let alone identities.”

“That's not enough,” Klare ground out, fighting down the pain and only partially succeeding. “Admiral Hoskins wants results; we have to take them down. No more letting them slide. We can't afford it. _I_ can't afford it.”

“Team Leader, we're doing the best we can,” Owen argued as the lift paused to let on more soldiers. However, they took one look at the Athenian occupants and quickly waved them on, saying something about catching the next lift. “We never intend to let the Spartans go,” the male continued as the doors slid shut and they resumed moving, “but situations force our hands. We're injured, their backups arrive sooner than anticipated, or we just didn't have time. None of that is our fault; how can Admiral Hoskins blame us for that?”

“Stop applying logic to officers, Red Two,” she huffed, forcing herself to not cringe as she shifted her weight. “They don't care about circumstances, they care about results, and the result is that we have failed on multiple occasions. We can't do that anymore.” Even as she said it, she knew her words were empty. Every time they'd let the Spartans go, the decision had been made because it was what was best for her men. That was always the criteria for everything she did and everything she would do in the future. “And tell 099 that if he is anywhere near our quarters when I arrive, I'm kicking his ass out an airlock.” It was an empty threat and she knew it, but her partner still gave a little shrug. Her hunch had been right.

When the lift paused, Klare nearly ran out, desperate to escape the conversation and the threat that was hanging over her head. Hoskins was her trainer, and therefore took his anger out on her before any other. That did not, in any way, prevent him from harming her men when he felt she needed the incentive. Their trainers on Emerald Cove had beat out any weakness the Athenians had, but they couldn't touch the extreme loyalty they all suffered from. Just the idea that her soldiers might be punished for her inability to kill Spartans had the redhead ready to scream.

But what could she do?! It had never been her intention to spare a single Spartan, but the battles never allowed her to finish the job. If they could find the armored soldiers outside of a battlefield they might stand a chance, yet that task was proving near impossible. When not in battle, Spartans seemed to vanish into thin air. There was no chatter about them on UNSC channels, no digital or paper trail they could follow, and only vague rumors about the behemoths moving through but not staying. It was like they were really just very corporeal ghosts.

Kenton was waiting outside their quarters, just as she knew he would be. She could threaten the other Teams into staying away, but not her own. They were with her until the end...and she couldn't decide if she resented them for that or not. “Not a word,” she growled as she stalked past, knowing she needed something on her face and soon, or the new welts would get worse. Luke would kill her if she sent him away only to call him back for an infection.

Stomping into the bathroom to clean the new wounds, Klare listened to her partners whisper in the main room. She made special effort to not listen, not wanting to know if they were talking about how different she was.

Before the Spartans had shown up, she'd always been confident in her abilities and in her Team. There was no room for doubt, and there was no reason for it. However, ever since those hulking suits of armor had appeared in her life, it felt like she did nothing _except_ doubt. It didn't help that her 'memories' grew stronger after every battle. Even other Athenians were starting to struggle with their barely remembered past rearing its ugly head. Though there were extenuating circumstances behind each time they'd allowed a Spartan to live, three times had been simply because the Athenian couldn't bring themselves to kill a soldier that felt familiar.

“Dammit!” the redhead snarled, punching the wall hard. She _had_ to kill a Spartan, but how could she do that if she couldn't find one?! They only had the vaguest idea of placement; the only thing they knew for certain was the types of missions that Spartans took...“That's it!” she yelled, spinning so fast she almost lost her footing as she bolted back out. “I know how to catch a Spartan!” Owen and Kenton were just staring at her, which she really couldn't blame them for, but there was no time to explain. She had to find Purple Team!

Grabbing her helmet as she dashed out of the room, Klare ran down the hall, dodging most soldiers and running over the few that wouldn't get out of her way. “129!” she called, knowing that Purple had just come back from a mission and wouldn't be out of uniform yet. No reason to broadcast ranks when it wasn't needed. “129!”

“Team Leader!” There she was, stepping out of the quarters. “What is it; what's wrong?!”

“Inside!” the redhead barked, barely slowly to slide past her friend into the room. She waited impatiently for Adhira to follow, but the second the door had slid shut, she let her guard drop enough to smile. Ignoring how the sight made Ivan and Peter flinch, she gushed, “I know how to find the Spartans. We need to stop tracking them and start tracking their missions.” Utter confusion. “Spartans are sent on very specific types of missions. If we narrow our focus to the types of missions that they would receive, we'll know when they're out on mission and we can track them that way.” Even though Adhira's face was hidden, Klare could almost see the light bulb go off, complete with wide eyes and evil grin. “I know you three are tired, but could you do some work? The sooner we get a system set up, the sooner we can hunt these bastards down.”

“Leave it to us,” Peter chirped, leaping over the pair to scramble for a computer. Ivan didn't even bother to respond verbally, instead settling for pulling his laptop out of his bag and booting it up right where he stood. “Ten minutes, Team Leader. We'll have something for you by then if any Spartans are on mission.”

“COM me direct,” she ordered, triggering the door and running back out. Sending out a fast text message to tell her Team to gear up and move, she ran for the launch bay as she pulled on her helmet. Spartans moved fast, so if they found a mission that a Spartan would be assigned to, they'd have to move much faster. Already being in the air would help. A faint thought that there might not be any Spartans deployed drifted through her mind, but she ignored it. Something in her gut was telling her that they'd get what they needed if they moved _right then_. Her gut hadn't been wrong, though it had been confused on occasion. Hopefully, those issues would be solved by killing a Spartan. She'd prove her abilities to everyone...including herself.

“ _Team Leader, we got something,_ ” Adhira's voice said over the COM as Klare slowed to a jog to enter the bay. She could see Owen and Kenton, fully armored and moving quickly to snag O'Brien. It would take them a couple minutes to get their transport ship running, so the female redhead ducked into a niche in order to focus on the conversation. “ _At 0400, Parangosky's daughter left Reach to return to Verent for some sort of festival. There's no official records of any guards accompanying her, but the small ship she took had a compliment of two and was full equipped with enough weaponry to stock up a small armory. Combined with reports that the Spartans have grown close to Parangosky's family since their relocation to Reach, the odds of the other passenger being a Spartan are very high._ ”

“Understood; good work,” the Athenian smiled, feeling the first thrum of excitement race through her. After an entire year of playing catch-up, maybe they were finally starting to pull ahead of their enemy. “Keep searching for other likely missions and file them. Any that you believe are pressing, send to me and I will pass the information on to the Teams and Admiral.”

“ _Will do. Good luck Team Leader._ ” Ducking back out of the niche, she ran for the dropship. The engines were hot and there was no one around, so she ran straight up the ramp. Owen and Kenton were waiting, already strapped in and their gear stashed.

“Get us out of her, O'Brien!” Klare called, slipping into her claimed seat easily and pulling the straps tight as she felt the ship rise off the ground. “Coordinates are being sent to you now. Get us there as fast as you can.”

“ _Understood, Team Leader,_ ” the soldier called back, easily moving the dropship out of the hangar. “ _Coordinates received and course laid in. Looks like the targets are stopping at a civilian port ship to refuel in a couple hours. We could catch them there rather than go all the way to Verent._ ”

“Excellent; do it,” the redhead called, feeling another rush of energy go through her. She could see Kenton nearly vibrating with excitement while Owen softly hummed over the COM, sounding quite at peace. The joy and hope in the air was nearly palpable, and it gave her a good feeling. Hoskins knew that the Athenians were her greatest weakness, but he also understood that she was theirs. By punishing her again and again, he was encouraging them to do better. Though she wasn't happy about it, clearly that tactic was paying off. The only way this Spartan would be surviving the battle is if it killed all three of them.

“Do we have a plan?” Kenton finally asked, leaning forward with a small frown on his face as they entered empty space and O'Brien set in their course. “I mean, we can't just walk onto the ship, grab the Spartan, and leave.”

“The civilian will be its weak point,” Owen argued with a shrug as Klare closed the door between the cockpit and the main bay. There was no need for them to distract their pilot. “We grab her, the Spartan will do whatever we tell it. _I_ want to know if we're killing the Spartan there or bringing it back to base. Admiral Hoskins was never very clear on that.”

“Apparently, bringing it back to base,” Klare grumbled, reading the short message that had just popped up on her HUD. “We're ordered to capture them both and return them for interrogation.”

“Both?!” her partners asked, voices pitched perfectly to hit an accidental harmony.

“Yes, both,” she snarled, pulling her helmet off specifically so she could rake a hand through her hair. “The daughter of Admiral Parangosky is a valuable source of information, not to mention a perfect prisoner for barter. So we are to grab them both and return to the command ship so they can be interrogated.”

“I suddenly feel sorry for them,” the smallest Athenian sighed, shaking his head as he leaned back and pulled out his portable computer. “I'll try to hack into the port ship and get live feeds, as well as blueprints. First person to break my concentration gets smothered by a pillow tonight.” Chuckling, Klare finally leaned back, closing her eyes and letting the euphoria settle into her bones. Things were going to change. They had to. And if they didn't change of their own free will, she would force them to. Somehow, someway, this nightmare would end.

The hours crept by as Red Team slowly prepared for their mission. Kenton stayed entrenched in his cyber world, pulling everything he needed to do his job, while Klare and Owen debated gear and tactics. It frustrated them all that they had no idea which Spartan was guarding Parangosky's daughter, but they tried to make plans that would work in a variety of situations. Reluctantly, the female had to admit that they would both need to be active; their normal mission method simply wouldn't work. She would target the Spartan while Owen captured the civilian, and then they hoped that using the civilian as leverage would force the Spartan into obedience. If it didn't, they'd have to go with Plan B, which had a much higher risk of collateral damage and Athenian injury.

“ _Team Leader, we're approaching the civilian port,_ ” O'Brien suddenly announced, breaking Klare out of an intense internal debate. “ _We've been given permission to land in Hanger C7._ ”

“The Spartan is docked in Hanger D4,” Kenton added, still staring at his screen as he typed away. “They've been aboard for ten minutes and are currently sightseeing in the commerce section of the ship. There's enough soldiers around the ship that we should go mostly unnoticed until the trap is sprung. However, I would recommend keeping weapons to a minimum.”

“Send the coordinates to our HUDs,” Team Leader told him, quickly pulling her helmet back on. “The second we land, you and O'Brien finish gearing up. I don't want anyone being identified. If we're not back in twenty minutes, get out of here.” She knew her teammate was about to argue, so she glared through the opaque shield. “I'm not going to risk all of us on one Spartan. If the mission is a success but we're slowed down, we'll contact you. Otherwise, get the hell out. Understood?” Silence. “ _Understood?_ ”

“Understood,” he finally muttered back. O'Brien also confirmed the order, so Klare spared a brief second to hope they would both obey before joining Owen at the rear hatch. She could feel him giving her a look, but chose to ignore it. Sometimes she liked to exercise orders she knew were futile, thank you very much.

The dropship had barely settled on the deck of the hanger before O'Brien was dropping the ramp, allowing the two Red Team members to quickly trot out. They split up almost immediately, knowing they'd need to separate their targets if there was any chance of success. As it was, they were looking at a 17% chance of victory. They'd faced worse odds and come out on top before, but never with so much riding on them. Actually...they'd never had this much depending on the success of a mission. Not the best feeling in the world.

It only took a couple minutes to reach the commerce section, and then another handful of seconds before Klare spotted the Spartan. She was actually taken back for a second when she realized that it was him. He wasn't wearing any armor; if it hadn't been for the height and muscle she wouldn't have known what he was. The sight of her most hated enemy in civilian clothes was as disturbing as seeing Hoskins naked. It shook her, but it also meant that he wasn't ready for a fight; he thought they were safe and his guard was down for maybe the first time ever. Well...this changed things.

“ _Team Leader,_ ” Owen called, a strong note of confusion lacing his tone. “ _Is that-_ ”

“That's the Spartan,” she confirmed, noting the tightness in her own voice. Something was tugging at her mind, a memory that she stubbornly refused to acknowledge. She would _not_ back down now. “Plan hasn't changed. Acknowledge.”

“ _Acknowledged. I'm in position._ ” Not giving herself a chance to talk herself out of everything, Klare stepped into the mainstream of the crowd, keeping close tabs on her target. When they reached one of the busier congregation points, she moved closer until she could bump into him, barely needing to pretend to lose her balance. Good god, were Spartans solid muscle?!

“Whoa,” the larger human said, quickly reaching out and grabbing her arm to keep her up. “Sorry about that. Are you alright?” Quickly twisting herself out of his grip before he could realize who she was, the Athenian straightened and turned to block his path, knowing the moment everything clicked for him. He went from being pleasantly relaxed to battle tense so fast she couldn't see the transformation. Actually, he was just about as fast as her own soldiers.

“You're not going to fight me,” she said, voice just loud enough to be heard over the crowd with his advanced senses. “That would put all these innocent civilians at risk, and none of us want that, now do we? Besides, I'm just here to talk.”

“Forgive me for not believing you,” he growled, voice sharp and deep. However, he wasn't attacking, so Klare took the time to actually get a good look at the enemy. His hair was blonde, eyes were honey brown, skin as pale as hers, various scars that look very similar to those that covered her Athenians, and he wasn't much taller than her. Basically...nothing she'd been expecting. Take away the height, and he could easily be one of her soldiers. Not the best revelation to have. “What do you want, Insurrectionist?”

“To talk, like I said,” she answered, keeping her tone carefully flippant. “You know the old saying, surely. 'Know thine enemy'? Well, I don't know you or your friends very well, and I was hoping to change that. So here I am, visiting shops, see you walking around and thought, why not stop for some friendly conversation? Get some of my more pesky questions answered?”

“So you pegged me as a Spartan just like that?” the taller male sneered, hands flexing dangerously. “Out of this crowd of people, you just happened to pick me out?”

“I'm sorry; have you seen yourself?” Klare asked, not needing to fake the disbelief in her voice. “You're just shy of two meters tall and built like a mountain with more scars than unmarked skin. If you weren't a Spartan, I was going to apologize for the shit life you've had and ask if I could treat you to a coffee or something.” She wasn't expecting much, but the startled laugh that she got almost made her feel...happy. Oh crap. Not good.

“Fair enough,” the UNSC soldier chuckled, a very strange look on his face like he couldn't believe what he was doing any more than she could. “Still, I have to ask, what makes you think I'll go along with this?” A hard smile crossing his face as he crouched ever so slightly. It was the look of a predator, and for the strangest reason, Klare hated it. He wasn't supposed to look like that...not to her...was he?

“Call it incentive,” Owen's voice suddenly broke in, making Spartan and Athenian both snap their heads towards him. He stood casually enough, but both soldiers could see the dagger that he was holding below the ribs of Parangosky's daughter. She looked terrified, though only if one knew what to look for. The rest of the civilians simply moved around the small group, completely unaware of what was happening inches away from them. “Come now, Spartan. No need for us to get unfriendly. Like my partner said; we just want to talk.” Klare could see the thoughts and emotions flashing across the enemy soldier's face as he frantically tried to think his way out of the situation. She was, therefore, the first to see the moment he realized he was defeated.

“Fine,” he said quietly, looking back at her as though he somehow knew that she was in charge. “We'll come...talk. But don't be surprised if it doesn't end the way you hope.”

“I have no hope,” she joked, throwing every ounce of talent she had into acting flippant and unthreatening. There was little chance that the Spartan was fooled, but there was a chance and she was not going to squander it. “I am a soldier after all.” _That_ earned a strange look, and one that she couldn't hope to translate. It was almost surprised, understanding, and...sad? “How about we go to our ship? Someplace a little more...private than the middle of a busy space mall.” The curl of the soldier's lip had an echoing twist in her gut, but he nodded slowly and followed without complaint as she started to walk away, Owen and the civilian bringing up the rear. Despite staying on alert, they ran into no opposition on the way and were back at the dropship well within the twenty-minute window Klare had given. Kenton was waiting, brandishing the restraints the Insurrection scientists claimed would hold a Spartan. Though it clearly angered him, the UNSC soldier allowed himself to be cuffed and sat quietly in the dropship when told.

The complacency angered the head Athenian in a way that she couldn't wrap her mind around. Everything was going off without a hitch; she should have been ecstatic. Bit by bit, she was removing her men from the threat of Hoskins. That should have her over the moon. Instead, she felt nothing but rage and frustration. Owen and Kenton seemed to catch her shift in mood instantly and avoided her as much as they could in such a confined space. O'Brien also stayed silent as he piloted them back into open space and laid in course to the base as fast as he could. So Klare was left to stew in her emotions with no understanding of why she felt the way she did.

It didn't help that the civilian was glaring fire at her, apparently finding courage in the fact that she was still alive. The sight of her face had given the Athenian an instant headache as something in the back of her mind had screamed in utter agony, so she was avoiding eye contact again to the best of her ability, but it didn't help much when she felt like the side of her face was being scorched. “You may sit with your guard if you wish,” she finally said, stubbornly holding on to the friendly tone she'd been using, even if it was a bit strained. “We're all friends here after all.”

“We have very different definitions of that word,” the woman snarled, unaware that her accent had triggered another mental scream from the redheaded female, but she also hurried to move and sit beside the Spartan. They both sat in silence, but the tension that had surrounded them was eased and Klare no longer felt like they would spontaneously combust.

'This isn't a good idea,' Owen subtly signed, taking the seat across from his Team Leader. 'Protocol states that prisoners are to be separated at all times.'

'I am aware,' the head Athenian snapped back, movements jerky. 'But we have no protocol about how to handle captive Spartans. I'd rather let them sit together and keep them both relatively calm than deal with him trying to be a hero.'

“Where did you learn that?” the Spartan suddenly asked sharply, startling the Insurrectionists. When they looked over, he was glaring, but completely focused on their hands, though he glanced up to their helmets fast enough. “That sign language. Where did you learn it?” There was a large amount of steel in his voice, and it worried the female. Somehow, she felt like she'd made a mistake.

“It's Insurrection code, Spartan,” Owen replied, a hint of snideness coloring his tone. “All of us can use it.” The silence stretched for a long second before the large enemy snorted, his face twisting into a mocking look.

“It's called Suyrian Tribal Signs,” he corrected, his voice so sure that no one wanted to question him. “The Suyrian's went extinct two-hundred years ago, with only one complete record detailing their sign language. It's nearly impossible to find without a specialized AI.” His eyes narrowed, igniting a pit of worry in Klare's gut. “My sister found that record and learned the language before teaching it to the rest of the family. So I ask again. _Where did you learn it?_ ”

Klare knew that Owen and Kenton were giving her looks of worry, and she reluctantly had to agree. The truth was, all of her Athenians had known the sign language since training. There was no time of learning; it was just natural to them. However, they'd all noticed that it was the redheaded female that was the most comfortable with the hand gestures. Though the Insurrection had eventually beat her back into talking, no one else was as smooth or accurate with the signs. None of the other Athenians would use the language subconsciously, either. It had become a private joke that the head Athenian must have been the one to teach them all, even if none of them remembered. But now...what if there was something more to their private communications? And if it really was as rare as he was saying, how had they all known it? Even ignoring all of that, she now had a new problem to deal with. How was she supposed to handle having an enemy that knew the silent language of her soldiers?!

Well, the sign language part at least. He hadn't reacted to their body language conversation, so maybe there was hope.

“We're not that close of friends, Spartan,” the female finally answered, leaning back and relaxing like she didn't have a worry in the world. “Enough to know that we know it, is it not?” The Spartan did not reply, though there was a strange look of consideration on his face. A blanket of tension settled over the dropship as everyone sat in uncomfortable silence until O'Brien announced that they'd reached the base and were docking. Working in perfect sync, the Athenians rose and prepared to disembark, Owen taking his place beside the civilian. By the time the ship landed and the ramp dropped, they were ready.

Admiral Hoskins was waiting for them, a look of pride on his face. In the past, such a look would make Klare happy, or at least relaxed, but this time she couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very, _very_ , wrong. That feeling only grew as they stepped off the dropship and she realized that the hangar was abandoned except for them, the Admiral, and his personal guards. It wasn't uncommon for prisoners to be brought in, yet the hangar had never been emptied before. “Allison McCoy,” the Admiral greeted, slick as oil as he smiled at the civilian. This time the female Athenian couldn't hide her flinch, and she certainly got a few looks for that, but Hoskins ignored her, allowing the mistake to fade out of mind. “I can't begin to tell you how excited we are to have you as our guest.”

“Wish I could say the same,” the civilian, Allison, sneered. “Admiral Andrew Hoskins; I remember hearing about you; you betrayed the UNSC when the Insurrection offered a bigger paycheck. Mother has been hunting you ever since.”

“Guilty as charged,” the officer laughed, completely unaware of the looks of horror the Athenians were giving him. Not over the betrayal; everyone in the Insurrection knew of Hoskins' past. His laughter, though, featured in many Athenian nightmares. Suddenly, Klare knew that things were about to go beyond _very_ wrong. “Please forgive my manners,” he continued, smile still firmly in place, “but I'm not actually that interested in you. It's your guard that holds my attention.”

“Figured,” the Spartan snorted, rolling his eyes. “Must be my lucky d-” He hadn't even finished before Hoskins had pulled his gun and shot the large soldier squarely in the gut.

“No!” Allison screamed, lunging forward before being restrained by one of the Admiral's guards. “Malcolm!” The Spartan didn't answer; he stared down at the growing blood stain for a long second, clearly shocked, before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

“Admiral!” Klare snapped, feeling a rush of hatred rush through her for reasons she would never understand. “You said we were to bring them in for interrogation!”

“This _is_ interrogation, Team Leader,” he answered easily, calmly watching the large soldier bleed out. “We need to know how to kill them. They're too well trained to get anything else out of them, so we'll take what we can get.” Gesturing to his guards, he started to walk away, calling over his shoulder, “Record how long it takes him to die, Team Leader, and then dispose of them both.” She said nothing, watching numbly as the guard holding the sobbing civilian passed her over to Owen and followed his officer. Soon, they were left alone.

“Red Two, let her go,” Klare finally said, unable to raise her voice above a whisper. “She can't help him anyway.” Without a word, her brother let go, allowing the female to stumble forward and collapse next to the dying man.

“Malcolm,” she cried, rolling him over to see his face. “Malcolm, please, hang on.” He winced as she turned him, hand held tight against the wound, but the blood kept seeping out. Hoskins must have hit the abdominal aorta; a normal human would bleed out within ten minutes. With all the blood on the floor, the Athenians were willing to bet the Spartan's death would be much faster. “Please, please, hold on.”

“I'd have thought a Spartan would hold out longer,” Kenton said quietly, standing beside Owen and watching with the same twist in his gut as his teammates. “I mean...yeah, it's the aorta, but it's just a gut shot. Shouldn't it take more than that to take down one of them?”

“He's just a human,” Klare replied flatly. “They're all just human.” Her chest felt numb as she watched the Spartan slowly reach up, his hands till bound, to brush some hair away from Allison's face. “That's what this is all about; we're learning how to kill them. They're not all-powerful; they're not invincible. They're just as human as us.”

“It's...okay,” the large soldier said to the woman leaning over him, a weak smile on his face. “Tis...but a...scratch.” The civilian chuckled wetly at that, a small smile appearing through her tears. “Hey...could you sing...that song again? Like she did?”

“Oh god, I haven't sung that in years,” Allison tried to laugh, having to look away as her face crumpled. “I'm sure...her voice was always better than mine. I wouldn't want to sully those memories.”

“Please.” There was so much desperation in that one word, so much pain, and longing, that Klare had to look away. Something in her chest was tearing free and she could barely stay on her feet. For a long moment there was only silence, and then she heard it. A rough, wet voice that pulled at the most painful memories she had. And then the words started coming through, and each one felt like a bullet.

“ _We pray for blessings. We pray for peace. Comfort for family. Protection while we sleep. We pray for healing. For prosperity. We pray for your mighty hands to ease our suffering. And all the while you hear each spoken need. Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things. Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops. What if your healing comes through tears. What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near. What if trials of this life are your mercies in disguise?_ ”

“I can't do this,” Owen said sharply, spinning on his heel and striding away, hands over his helmet as though he could block out the sound. Kenton was also looking away, tension in every line of his body as though he was in pain. O'Brien had vanished long before, leaving the Athenians to suffer through this unexplainable wave of emotions alone. Klare was the only one that had to watch, feeling like she owed it in some strange way. She'd actually thought that Hoskins would keep his word; interrogate the Spartan and trade the civilian back to the UNSC. There was nothing Parangosky wouldn't give to protect her daughter and the enhanced soldiers were valuable. Yet both were about to die...because she'd followed orders.

“ _We pray for wisdom. Your voice to hear. We cry in anger when we cannot feel you near. We doubt your goodness. We doubt your love. As if every promise from your word is not enough. But all the while, you hear each desperate plea. And longed that we'd have faith to believe. Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops. What if your healing comes through tears. What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near. What if trials of this life are your mercies in disguise?_ ”

The images started hitting her mind, hard and fast. Smiling faces scuffed with dirt. Warm blankets, decorated with wolves and stars. A dancing fire and harmonizing voices. A stone box filled with the greatest light she'd ever known. Everything started flashing through her mind, tearing chunks out of a wall she'd never known and threatening to overwhelm her. They questioned every choice she'd made, every action she'd taken; they judged her harsher than she'd ever been judged. And over it all was the agonized screams that she'd started to realize was herself. Maybe the person she would someday be. Maybe the person she had been. But her.

“ _When friends betray us._ ” A flinch. “ _When darkness seems to win we know. The pain reminds our heart that this is not, this is not our home. It's not our home._ ” Another flinch. “ _Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops. What if your healing comes through tears. And what if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you're near._ ” Klare drew her gun and started walking towards the pair, knowing that the Spartan had already died. She needed to get her orders out of the way before she couldn't go through with them. “ _What if my greatest disappointments,_ ” Klare stepped in the puddle of blood, “ _or the aching of this life,_ ” she stopped beside the body, “ _is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy,_ ” she lifted the gun, “ _and what if trials of this life,_ ” cocked the weapon, “ _the rain, the storms, the hardest nights,_ ” aimed, “ _are your mercies in disguise?_ ”

Allison looked up, tears still falling, making the green pop from her eyes so much brighter than it had been before. In fact, it looked identical to- _BANG_

“Red Two,” Klare called, spinning on her heel and walking calmly away. “Call a cleanup crew. Red Three, report to Admiral Hoskins. I'll be in our quarters cleaning up if you need me.”

“Yes, Team Leader,” came the synchronized reply, barely heard before the hangar doors slid shut behind her. She kept her stride perfectly even, head held normal and shoulders relaxed. There was even a spring in her step that several soldiers noticed and they risked sending her small smiles, happy to see a pleased Athenian.

Slipping into her quarters, the redhead pulled her helmet off with a relieved sigh before tossing it onto her bunk. She made sure to tug off her boots before quickly striding into the small bathroom, intent on ridding herself of the armor and taking a shower to wash off the grime of the last two missions. There would be time to deal with all her reports later.

Scrubbing her hands over her face tiredly, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of the leather. She'd need to get them cleaned soon. It felt so good to give her eyes a break, though, she kept them covered as the door to her destination slid open and she stepped in by memory. Reluctantly, she stopped beside the sink and brought her hands down to remove the armor, but a flash out of the corner of her eye had her glancing at the mirror.

Blood. There was blood all over her face. It ran in crimson tracks, smudged and smeared in a horrible parody of a mask. Gasping, Klare fell backwards, hands hitting the wall and sliding unexpectedly, forcing her to look down. More blood; it was all over her hands. How? How did-

Her boots. She'd walked in the Spartan's blood. His blood was on her hands. On her face.

“Malcolm,” she whispered, Allison's agonized scream ringing in her head. There was another image flashing in her mind; a young boy with a tooth missing, smiling up at her. His hand was so warm in hers and his lips were moving, telling her that he was alright. Then he was older, more jaded, but his eyes were still bright as he pulled her up over the wall. A laugh, something about how she wasn't being very cat-like. Older, scarred, blood pouring from a wound on his head as he leaned over her, yelling for her to hold on. Over it all was those words from Allison's song; different voices, different accents, but the same song. It was echoing in her bones, vibrating in her skull until she thought it would shake her to pieces. “Oh my god. What have I done?” She was back in the bathroom, staring at her red hands as the scent of iron was burned into her nose. “What have I done?” They were shaking; she couldn't move her fingers. “What have I done?” Everything felt like it was tilting; she fell to the floor when she couldn't control her legs anymore. “What have I done?!”

_Hey...could you sing...that song again? Like she did?_ Like she did. Like _she_ did. Like Klare did. She _did_ know him, and he knew her, and she killed him. Even if she hadn't pulled the trigger, she'd killed him.

She'd killed them.

Ten minutes later, Owen walked into the room to hear his Leader screaming from the bathroom. In a panic, he raced in to find her curled up on the floor, blood covered hands covering her ears and tears streaming down her face as she kept screaming, “I killed them! I killed them! _I KILLED THEM!_ ”

“Red Two to medical; I need help _now_!” the male Athenian yelled into his COM as he fell beside his friend and tried to hold her still. “Red Team quarters; Red One is having some kind of fit. Send help!” There might have been a reply, but he couldn't hear it over the continuing screams. He tried to soothe her, tried to get through her terror, but nothing worked. She was just as hysterical when the medics arrived as she had been when he had. Though he wanted to stay with her, he could see Hoskins in the hall, eyes hard, so he stepped out. “Admiral Hoskins-”

“What. Happened?” the officer cut off, voice like steel.

“I'm not entirely sure,” Owen had to answer, forcing himself to keep his eyes away from the still open door. “When the Spartan died, Team Leader executed the civilian as ordered and then left to clean up before giving an official report. I called a clean-up crew while Red Three reported the time until death to you, and when I returned to the quarters I found Team Leader in this condition.”

“I see,” the Admiral said quietly, a strangely distant look on his face as he stared into the room. “That will be all, Athenian. Report to supply to get your Team's new armor. Red One will be treated by the time you return.”

“Yes Admiral,” the male redhead reluctantly acknowledged, throwing one glance over his shoulder before quickly trotting away. Hoskins waited until the soldier was out of sight before stepping into the quarters. He watched impassively as the medics finally managed to sedate his Athenian and she slumped forward, face still covered in blood.

“The mind wipe?” he asked, voice perfectly neutral.

“We won't know until we can conduct a full brain scan,” the main doctor answered quickly. “There's no way the wipe could have failed, though, sir. The memories of who they once were, were completely wiped out, I'm sure of it.”

“Then explain to me why she was acting just like she had when we brought her back to life!” the officer barked, finally allowing his rage to twist his face. “The accent, the voice, were identical! If she hadn't been so hysterical, we would be burying our dead now just as we did then! Something had to have happened.”

“Yes, sir, but the mind wipe couldn't have possibly failed,” the doctor insisted as the other medics moved the unconscious soldier onto a stretcher and carried her out. “We followed Doctor Halsey's notes to the letter and she's the leader in this field of study.”

“Make sure you're right, doctor,” Hoskins finally snarled, spinning around to stalk out of the room. “We need to know if she is still ours. If she is, there is no way the UNSC will ever defeat us. If she's not...we need to kill her now, or she will kill us all.”

 


	5. The Realization

 

**The Realization**

Time: 1430\

August 02, 2537\

Aboard the _USF Pearl Harbor_

 

“The CMO says that you're fully healed,” Hoskins said quietly, face tilted towards the screen with the open file but his eyes were fully focused on the Athenian standing before him. “Along with several unflattering comments about your obedience and hardheadedness.” She didn't even pretend to look ashamed or scolded. In fact, her face was perfectly blank. Before everything had blown up so spectacularly in all of their faces, such an expression would have been preferable. It meant she was focused, intent, deadly. Everything she and the others had been trained to be.

Now...that blankness worried him.

He could remember when the Insurrection had decided to open the thirty cryotubes that their spies at told them about. There had been no warning what the tubes contained; no indication that they were messing with a weapon they knew nothing about. At least, not until their chief scientist had fixed the damage done to the least damaged body, 113, and brought her back to life. It had been a massacre, leaving nearly two dozen soldiers dead and severely damaging the small ship the cryotubes had been stored in. Hoskins had nearly lost his own life and still had the scar to prove it. If it had not been for her own body seizing up and a hastily administered sedative, they all would have perished.

Ever since that day, Hoskins had kept a close eye on the female redhead. It was clear to anyone with enough brains to see that every soldier pulled from those cursed tubes was completely loyal to her and her alone, which was why the memory wipe on her mind was so terribly important. If they lost her, they lost all of their weapons. Hoskins had become her trainer specifically to avoid that fate. After so long watching, guiding, and training, he thought of her as his own daughter, though one that was fully capable of gutting him. Such a dangerous nature demanded that he use the cane more than the carrot, but she had always responded appropriately.

Until, again, now. The death of the Spartan and civilian had caused damage he hadn't anticipated. This couldn't be solved with pain or discipline, so until he learned how to bring his daughter safely back into the fold, he'd have to treat her cautiously. “How would you describe your current physical and mental state, Team Leader?”

“I'm ready to get back to work, Admiral,” she answered flatly, gaze staying focused straight ahead on the wall.

“That did not answer my question, Athenian.”

“Yes, sir,” she sighed, the first emotion she'd displayed since walking into the room. “My physical condition is perfect; I am performing at peak efficiency. My mental state is well within standards and is projected to fully stabilize during the next 48 hours. So I'm ready to return to work.” Hoskins had his doubts. This utter obedience was not the Athenian he had to deal with on a daily basis, and that meant she was more dangerous than normal. However, her dedication was not wavering, so he'd have to take what he could get.

“Very well, Team Leader,” he said reluctantly. “You are officially cleared for duty and will resume the task of hunting down Spartans for execution.” Despite watching her closely, he couldn't see a flinch. Maybe she truly was past whatever had caused the severe reaction. Or maybe it had more to do with the civilian than with the enhanced soldier. It had never occurred to him before, but perhaps the Athenians' past made them less open to killing non-combatants. Certainly an idea to ponder at the very least. “Purple Two requested your time the moment you were cleared, so report to Purple Quarters and she will brief you. Dismissed.” The redhead saluted smartly and spun on her heel, leaving the room with the smooth and measured gait her people were known for. Yes...perhaps everything was fine after all and he was flinching at shadows.

In the hall, Klare kept a tight control of her body until she was safely ensconced in an empty lift. Only then did she release the breath she'd been holding and allow the tension to flow away. Her hands were shaking, but it was a sensation she'd had to reluctantly become used to. They hadn't been still since...their deaths.

It made no sense! The civilian and Spartan; they meant nothing to the Athenians. They weren't important, they weren't special, and they certainly weren't known. Yet there was a part of her mind that would not cease screaming about what she had done. The ghost memories, so mild and constant in the back of her thoughts, had become painful and were lashing her to within an inch of her life. More and more, she was starting to wonder if it was worth it to attempt to learn about her past. Surely things would be better if she just moved on; where she came from couldn't possibly matter so much...right?

Sighing irritably, the redhead strode out of the lift the moment it came to a stop, moving confidently through the halls. The ship's population was higher than usual as the Insurrection was between major engagements, but she knew things would empty out soon enough. An army could not remain stationary during a war. Despite the necessity of having a central congregation point, she couldn't help but chafe at the influx of soldiers, though. Was it truly so much to desire being able to make her way from Point A to Point B without rubbing shoulders with anyone?

“Blue Team,” Adhira said the instant Klare triggered the doors open and walked into the room. She hadn't even looked up from the screen she was staring at, fingers flying over the board as she apparently tried to hack deeper into whatever system she was currently infesting. “From everything we've gotten, they're the leaders of the Spartans; specifically a Spartan called Master Chief though the others are as close to SiC as the Spartan structure allows.”

“Anything more specific?” the redhead asked, arching an eyebrow as she settled onto an empty bunk. She normally wouldn't have felt comfortable doing such a thing, but Ivan and Peter were on the third bunk, their heads together as they argued heatedly over whatever they were hacking. “The identities of the other members, perhaps? Actual names or numbers?”

“104, Fredrick. 087, Kelly. 117, name unknown. 117's rank is Master Chief Petty Officer; the other two are just Petty Officers. This team is special; every other team shuffles members around but Blue Team is virtually eternal. Sometimes other Spartans come in and rarely one of the Team will transfer out, but the reorganization never lasts beyond a single mission.” There were bags under Adhira's eyes, but her energy seemed to be as high as ever. The ship's energy-drink supply was probably dangerously low.

“Do we have any idea where Blue Team is right now?” the larger Athenian asked, leaning forward and trying very hard to ignore the strange feeling in her chest when she recognized the names and numbers. The energy that warned her of danger was silent, but another energy was coursing through her. It was a feeling she was starting to recognize; it meant they were getting close to truths about their pasts. She had to ignore it, though, as the tremors in her hand increased in sync with the energy. Despite her words to the Admiral, she knew she wasn't actually ready to go back into the field. She just...couldn't stand the idea of sitting around any longer. She needed to be hunting.

“They move around more than any other Team; seems their ONI's main unit. If there's trouble, they get sent in. Most times we can only identify where they've been. Trying to be preemptive...it's gonna be a miracle.” Despite the words, Adhira was clearly already working on the task, if the frown on her face was to be believed. Klare remained silent, knowing that she would get results faster if she didn't distract her soldier. “Got it,” the Purple member said a minute later, victorious smile on her face. “Blue Team was recently deployed to Sedna to counteract an operation that the Insurrection has planned for that sector.”

“Then we need to move,” the redhead said quickly, nearly leaping off the bed and racing out the barely open door. Soldiers were diving out of her way, but she paid them no mind. Command had been pacified by the death of the Spartan two weeks before, but they were still pushing for her Athenians to take out the enemy unit. Hitting the command team would go a long way towards that goal. “Red One to Red Team and Grey Team, report to the launch bay, now! Gear up; we're hunting Spartans.”

“ _It's about damn time,_ ” Sonja snarled with a happy tone hidden under her words. “ _I'll be there in 60._ ”

“ _045_ _and I are already here and have fully gear,_ ” Dean reported in. “ _O'Brien is with us._ ”

“135 _and I are on the move,_ ” Kenton chimed through. “ _We'll be there in 90. Need anything?_ ”

“I'm geared up,” Klare said shortly. “I'm also four decks away and the lifts are busy. Get on the ship and get it prepped; the second I'm onboard, it takes off.” The press of humanity on the ship was aggravating her, but she wasn't allowed to do anything about it. She'd have to allow their terror to clear the path. And if she happened to run over those that didn't get out of her way fast enough, so be it.

“ _Team Leader, update,_ ” Peter's voice said over the COM, sounding tense. “ _Blue Team is working too fast; Insurrectionist forces are already falling back. I'd give it another three hours before they're out of combat; less than a day before they're off the planet._ ”

“Dammit,” she muttered, picking up speed as much as she could risk. It would take them a full hour to reach Sedna, plus however much time to actually locate the battle the Spartans were involved in. They'd be cutting it close. “Red Team, Grey Team, did you get that?”

“ _We got it, Team Leader. O'Brien is already going over reports to locate the battle. We'll have an exact route by the time you reach us._ ”

“I'm one deck up; I'll be there in 60,” she bit out, ducking under a pair of soldiers that were carrying a piece of cargo. Ignoring their cursing, she dodged around the last corner before the launch bay balcony, racing down the hall. “Get that ship powered up!”

“ _Ship is up and hovering, Red One,_ ” O'Brien said over the COM. “ _Am I correct in assuming you'll be joining us via air power?_ ”

“You're getting to know me too well,” the redhead said with a tight smile, unaware of just how dangerous she actually appeared. “Angle open hatch towards Section C balcony.” There was no reply, but she trusted the man to do as ordered. Even though he wasn't one of her Athenians, he was more than competent in his realm of expertise. She'd yet to meet his equal in piloting. “Brace.” With that bit of warning, she jumped over the balcony rail at full speed, twisting dangerously to make sure she'd hit the edge of the ramp and roll straight into the hovering dropship. “Let's go.”

“Is it sad that those stunts don't bother me anymore?” Dean drawled, giving his Leader a flat look as she easily surged onto her feet and calmly made her way to the cockpit while the hatch sealed and O'Brien flew them out of the bay. “I distinctly remember a time when something like that would have given me a heart-attack.”

“You grew up,” Klare said snidely back, the barest hint of a smile on her face to lessen the bite of her words. “We all did.” If there was a strange tinge to her voice, her soldiers didn't mention it, which she was grateful for. “O'Brien, give us as smooth of a ride as you can and push this ship to the limits,” she said firmly, poking her head into his small space to look directly at him. “We cannot allow this opportunity to pass us by, understood?” He must have responded silently, because she pulled herself back into the main bay, quickly glancing over her men before a curtain of pure steel dropped over her face, making them all sit up straight. They hadn't seen her this serious since their early years on missions. “Huddle up; we have plans to make.”

The hour of travel passed quickly as the Athenians made, debated, and discarded various plans and strategies. Klare's biggest battle was convincing Kenton and Dean to remain on the dropship with O'Brien. As the redhead and Jason said, repeatedly, they would need the two to keep communications open and tracking their targets, but neither Team member liked the idea of sending out a teammate into a situation they couldn't provide aide in. In the end, Klare had to make it a direct order and she knew she was going to regret her choice from the glares she was leveled with.

However, that was only the beginning of the issues in planning. Owen and Sonja weren't happy playing the roles of backup, but Klare and Jason honestly didn't know how to run missions with two active hunters from the same Team. It had never been attempted before. They could work with each other; each of them would take a different target and hunt as they saw fit. Having a partner would throw off their process. Their teammates knew it, too, but that didn't mean they had to be happy about effectively being left behind.

“I should have left you all on the ship,” the female redhead finally muttered, irritably turning away and ducking into the cockpit, clearly communicating her frustration. No one followed her, allowing the ship to fall into a tense silence. Even O'Brien seemed uneasy, glancing at his unexpected guest as she leaned against one of the control panels.

After several long seconds of painful stillness, the pilot decided to take a risk. “Are you feeling better, Team Leader?” he asked quietly, unaware that every soldier had heard him clearly. “There were rumors that you were on medical leave.”

“They were correct,” she replied flatly, not offering anything more.

“Well, I'm glad you're back,” he said honestly, blissfully ignored. “It wouldn't be the same without you.”

“What?” the Athenian suddenly asked, finally turning to look at him with an expression of surprise. “How do you mean? If I had not returned, a different Athenian would have been promoted and everything would have continued as normal.”

“No it wouldn't have,” the younger man said, clearly shocked as he actually turned to stare back at her. “Do you...do you really think so little of yourself that you don't see just how vital you are to your soldiers?” She did not respond beyond continuing to stare. “Team Leader...I'm sorry if I'm out of place, but it's painfully obvious to anyone that sees you with your Teams. They would follow you to Hell and back, and they'd do it all with a smile if it meant helping you somehow. Those that like to kill would stay their hand if you asked it. Those that want only to heal would take a life if it was your will. Their entire world revolves around you. I mean, even now. I haven't been assigned to you for long, it's true, but everyone on that ship knows that Red and Grey Teams are the two most stubborn groups, and yet they are willing to surrender what they want in this mission simply because you tell them too.”

“Did you not hear the arguing?” Klare inquired, voice dripping with disbelief.

“Did you not hear them agreeing when you put your foot down?” he shot back. “They are your friends, so they worry. They are your supporters, so they argue to make you constantly work to improve your plans. They are your soldiers, so they obey when suggestions become orders. Means they care and respect you.”

The silence stretched for several painful moments before the redhead slowly inclined her head. “I will...take your words into consideration.” She couldn't promise any more and O'Brien seemed to understand as he returned to his work piloting. He didn't say anything when she stayed still for a long minute, but he couldn't stop the soft smile when she finally turned back to the bay and rejoined her soldier.

The Athenians didn't bother pretending they hadn't heard anything, staring at their Leader as she rejoined them. There was a moment of hesitation as she remembered the words Luke had told her weeks ago came back to her mind, mingling with O'Brien's observations. Could she really be so blind to not see what everyone else apparently thought was obvious? Her rank and position never meant anything to her beyond knowing she was responsible for her men. It had never occurred that they could feel anything other than loyalty to her.

Maybe...it was time to rethink her position in their lives.

“I understand that you're frustrated,” she said at last, focusing on the Two's and Three's. “The Spartans have consistently proven that they are dangerous and not to be taken lightly. However, this is an angle we have not explored in training and we are not prepared to change our current strategy. I swear to you; once this mission is complete I will request Admiral Hoskins summon every Athenian so that we can train in groups of various sizes to fully utilize our strengths against the enemy. For now, though, I need you to fill the roles you know so well. Jason and I are depending on you to get us out of this mission alive.” There was still a reluctance in their eyes, but everyone nodded firmly in acceptance of her orders. Somehow, it made her uncomfortable. She wasn't sure she liked having this level of power over anyone, let alone her friends.

“ _Approaching Sedna; ETA to LZ is ten minutes,_ ” O'Brien announced, breaking up the small meeting. Every Athenian quickly moved to their seats and strapped in, silently weathering the rough entry. They could hear muffled explosions through the hull, indicating that there was a battle around them. For a moment Klare considered ordering the pilot away from the combat, but she held her tongue when she remembered that he'd been analyzing battle patterns while her soldiers had been arguing strategies. If anyone on the ship was going to have an idea where Blue Team was, it was him. She'd simply have to trust that he knew what he was doing.

“ _LZ is no longer secure, but I can drop from a flyby in the area,_ ” O'Brien called. “ _Team Leader, confirm or deny orders._ ”

“Orders confirmed; drop us via flyby,” she barked, unstrapping herself quickly and moving to the center of the craft. Jason, Owen, and Sonja followed her example, quickly huddling around her. “The moment we are clear, find a safe location to monitor our progress.”

“ _Understood, sir. New LZ in 5..._ ” the light beside the hatch switched the green, “ _4..._ ” the hatch began to open, “ _3..._ ” the gap grew wide enough to pass through, “ _2..._ ” the Athenians braced, “ _1..._ ” they started running, “ _now!_ ”

The moment Klare leapt off the ramp and started falling, the rush of air filled her with the elation she always felt during free-falls. There was a freedom in that carefully contained moment where even gravity had to work to claim her. For that one, endless fraction of time, nothing could reach her. There were no plans to make, no orders to issue, to reports to sign. Just the wind and the sky and the feeling of weightlessness that shoved her heart into her throat, yet she still managed to laugh around it.

Then the ground was too painfully close and she had to roll, absorbing the impact into her armor and feeling the shock ripple through her limbs. Falling she loved, certainly, but there was little she hated more than landing. However, by the time she was on her feet, her soldiers had hit the dirt as well and they were all lurching to their own feet.

“We're splitting up,” she barked quickly, rolling her shoulders to make sure that there were no serious injuries from the landing. “Grey, go north and sweep west; Red will go south and west. Between us, we should be able to locate our targets amongst the troops.” She hoped so, at least. It had been fleeting, but she'd managed to catch a glimpse of the enemy troops as she'd fallen and hadn't liked what she'd seen. They were breaking apart, but in the controlled way that meant they owned the battle. If Insurrection forces were already gone, the Spartans were unlikely to hang around. “If you spot the targets, radio it in. No one attempts a solo battle. Understood?” She got affirmative signals from all three. “Go.”

Waiting a single second to see Grey Team run off, Klare finally spun on her heel and broke into a sprint herself, knowing that Owen would follow at a slower space to attain the proper distance between them. The terrain they were running through was heavily forested, though nothing as thick or massive as Verent had been. In fact, there was hardly any undergrowth to speak of, which bothered the Athenian Leader. If they were found by UNSC troops, there would be little cover outside of flimsy ferns.

“ _Team Leader,_ ” Kenton warned a fraction of a second before she nearly ran over an enemy patrol. However, that fraction was all she needed to draw her daggers and every soldier was down with a slit throat before the echoes had faded from her helmet. “ _Larger patrol ahead; adjust your course by three degrees north._ ”

“No,” she snarled, feeling a sudden rage that she hadn't been expecting. “I'll take down any enemy that I cross.” Fighting the Spartans...it made her feel helpless. This, though, reminded her of something she'd started to forget. Her Athenians were the best the Insurrection had to offer. Time to remind the UNSC of that.

“ _In that case, I would recommend drawing your sword, Team Leader,_ ” Kenton replied easily, a very obvious smirk in his voice. “ _It will allow you to cut through the larger groups in a more efficient amount of time._ ”

“Excellent idea,” she smiled, drawing the longer blade just in time to skid through another enemy group, easily slicing through necks and puncturing chests without missing a step. “Any other suggestions?”

“ _That we order more armor cleaner from the supply masters,_ ” Jason quipped, a dark glee in his voice that nearly made the redhead laugh. So glad to hear that she wasn't the only one having fun back in action.

Time stretched on, feeling both endless and terribly finite. Even as she reveled in the feeling of cutting down her enemies, Klare knew that they couldn't stay indefinitely. The Spartans would move on if given enough time, and they might not have another chance to strike at them directly. Despite Purple Team's skill with computers, it had been clear that Adhira had barely managed to uncover Blue Team's current location. There was no guarantee that she would be able to replicate the miracle.

Over the COM, the head Athenian was aware that she was no alone with her frustrations. Jason was becoming increasingly violent in his search while Owen and Sonja started taking a more active role in picking off scouts than she would have strictly preferred. Even Dean and Kenton were beginning to branch out by attempting to jam enemy ship sensors, resulting in some crafts colliding in the air. It was utter chaos and there was no way the Spartans were not aware of the shift in battle.

So where the hell were they?!

“Pull it in,” she reluctantly ordered a full hour later, nearly four hours into their combat. “We need a new strategy.” Definite grumbles from Jason, but he acknowledged quickly when she sent him RV coordinates. Owen and Sonja would fall back as always, covering the area to keep it secure as their One's met.

Jogging leisurely through the forest to the RV, Klare had to reluctantly note the beauty of the planet. Sedna had never mattered much to her, but it was a place she felt she'd be able to tolerate on a more consistent basis. The canyon cliff she'd chosen as a meeting point was even more stunning than the forest, and she couldn't resist a sharp inhale as she broke free of the trees and was able to take in the sight in all of its glory. It was frighteningly wide, though the river at the base was surprisingly thin. From the rim of the canyon, she could see boulders and fallen trees that indicate the canyon floor had once suffered a serious flood, but the waters were safely within the banks now, leaving only a picturesque scene.

“Pretty,” Jason drawled, apparently agreeing with her as he stepped out of the treeline. “Tell me you didn't choose the location for looks alone.” She bristled at his tone; they were certainly friends but at the moment she was his commanding officer and he was not permitted to treat her so familiarly. In fact, she spun to face him, those very words on her lips, but when she shifted her foot she heard a faint click and felt her heart nearly stop.

The next moment was filled with a roar that nearly split her skull and a fire that she could feel the heat of even through her armor. It was all so sudden and disconcerting that it took a moment to realize that she was falling. There was no time to enjoy the sensation, though, as she painfully struck the slope of the cliff wall and started rolling down, curling in tight in an attempt to avoid the boulders that were bouncing all around her. When she finally skid to a stop, sprawled on her back over a sharp boulder, she still waited a long moment to ensure that nothing would crush her and that she'd sustained no broken bones. Only once there was a reasonable assurance that she would not perish in the next few seconds did she allow herself to breathe in.

“ _Team Leader!_ ” Groaning, the redhead painfully rolled off the boulder, but she'd misjudged the height and landed hard on her stomach. It took another couple of seconds to collect herself and her breath so that she could push herself up. Somehow, when she'd woken that morning, she hadn't thought to plan for what she'd do if she was literally blown off of a cliff. “ _Team Leader, please come in!_ ”

“I'm here, Grey One,” she said, coughing wetly and noticing the iron taint in her mouth. Great, because coughing up blood was the perfect cap to the entire situation. “Status.”

“ _I'm uninjured and still on the cliff; trying to find a way down now. Our communications with the ship have been disrupted, though._ ” Divide and conquer; impressive, Spartans. Truly impressive. You get an A for sticking to tradition.

“Understood,” she grunted, slowly levering herself up and moving her feet under her. For a moment she was afraid that she would be unable to stand, but then her brain kicked back into gear and she was able to struggle into a vertical position. “Do _not_ harm yourself in your descent. At least one of us needs to be fully functional to get us out of here.”

“ _Yes, Team Leader. ETA is eight minutes._ ” Not long at all; she'd be fine.

The damn electricity screamed through her without warning, making Klare dive frantically to the left and barely dodging the bullet that came from nowhere. Startled, she looked up in time to see a Spartan step out of the trees, sunlight glinting off the newly revealed armor. Clearly, he'd been waiting for her. The IED suddenly made much more sense. “ _Glad you could join us for the party, Athenian,_ ” her opponent said, revealing itself as male. The numbers read 104; a member of Blue Team then, called Fredrick unless she was misremembering.

“This wasn't in the plan,” Klare muttered under her breath, watching the large Spartan warily. She could hear her teammates yelling at her over the static of the COM, and Jason was throwing in some words in a language she didn't understand but knew were insulting. None of that mattered. The extremely dangerous enemy standing less than ten feet away commanded all of her attention. It wasn't like all of her other fights with the UNSC special group, though. There was an energy in the air that made her hesitate.

One of them wasn't walking away.

“ _Tag,_ ” a male voice said, a fraction of a second before his gun was out and firing. The redhead responded by dodging again, but she wasn't fast enough to avoid every bullet. One grazed her left arm and another hit her squarely in the chest. If her armor had been any weaker, she would have died. As it was, she'd have a livid bruise.

Scrambling behind one of the fallen logs, Klare struggled to breathe and chose two small blades, cringing at the mere thought of how loud the weapon-smiths were going to scream when they learned she'd lost them. As long as she'd live long enough to hear that scream, the loss would be worthwhile... she hoped. Taking a deep breath, she raced back into the open, throwing the knives with as much force as she could. It wasn't the strength she needed; it was the speed. If the Spartan saw the approaching threat, he'd dodge and then she'd really be in trouble.

But he didn't see the weapons, and her aim was as true as ever. Both blades hit their targets, slicing through metal and burying themselves in deep. The knife in the left hip wasn't at the correct angle to actually stop him from moving it, but the arm hit was perfect; it sliced muscle and nerves to leave the right arm hanging uselessly. From the cussing that she could hear, he certainly felt the pain, but his gun remained steady and he continued to fire, forcing her to keep running. Unfortunately, there wasn't very much cover available, forcing her to skid low behind a small boulder. A burning track across her leg told her she'd taken another hit. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered, reluctantly putting weight on the wounded leg.

“ _Team Leader!_ ” Owen yelled over the COM, but his voice was still garbled by static. “ _We can't—you. You need—of there!_ ”

“I'd argue, if I knew what the hell you just said,” Klare huffed, dashing out from behind the boulder when the Spartan had to reload. He was too fast for her to get close, but she pushed in enough to make him leap back. That proved to be a bad choice as his bad leg collapsed when he landed. There was just enough time to dart in and take a glancing swipe at his exposed side. She basked in the feel of a clean slice, but then she was the one that had to launch back violently, barely dodging the armored hand that had nearly grabbed her head. The sudden danger made her forget that her own leg was injured and she landed badly, barely able to keep distance between them.

The entire battle was skewed, and she hated every damn second of it. Like every other Athenian, she'd been trained to get in close and make the kill. That was fine...until they'd met the Spartans. Against them, getting close would only result in getting crushed, and the armored behemoths thrived on the long-range combat they forced. Sometimes speed wasn't enough to win, but what other choice did she have? Speed was the only weapon she'd been given.

“ _Getting tired, Athenian?_ ” 104 taunted, and she could nearly see the smirk on his face. “ _You're slowing down._ ” Yes, she was, but only because she needed to conserve her strength for a flick. Her blades, despite their quality, would not survive a flick attack, but it would get her close enough to cause some actual damage. Especially if...

Scooping up a small rock from the riverbed, Klare feinted left before throwing the stone. By the time the enemy realized what was happening, the improvised missile hit the base of his helmet. It was too small to do much damage, but the power behind the throw gave the redhead the advantage she needed; it broke the armor's seal. Steeling herself against the strain she was about to sustain, she breathed a quick plea that her plan would work and flicked.

She almost didn't stop in time, barely able to twist and avoid ramming straight into the Spartan, but she managed the turn despite her protesting body. Better, she got her fingers hooked under the edge of his unsealed helmet and pulled it off as she blurred past. The move wrenched her shoulder and resulted in her left arm becoming inoperable, but the force of the pull unbalanced her opponent and he crashed backwards. Knowing the disorientation wouldn't last, Klare pushed herself to spin on her heel, coming to a painful stop and barely managing to scramble onto the fallen armor. She'd drawn another blade, small and thin, and it was held between her fingers so she could drive it down between his eyes. First, though, she balanced on his chest and looked down...and paused.

The Spartan had black hair, marked with a couple scars that felt painfully familiar. His skin was pale and covered in sweat, but that wasn't what held her attention. It was his eyes. They were a bright blue and filled with emotion. Anger, resentment, sadness, disappointment, pain, failure, regret. It was all there, but so carefully veiled that she shouldn't have seen it, but she did. Her mind was screaming, thrashing against the bands she'd held it in for years. It was worse than when she'd seen Parangosky, worse than when she'd killed the civilian woman. Something deep inside her wasn't just protesting his death, it was preventing it. It was pulling her arm down, relaxing her fingers, shifting her weight back so she could jump away. It was letting him go, to his shock and her own. She couldn't kill him.

She knew him.

By the time she'd realized that she was in danger, she'd barely managed to get an arm between her head and the armored leg of a pissed off Spartan. The pain radiating up the limb told her that bones were broken, but then everything went numb. Not good. Definitely not good. From that angle, it couldn't have been 104 that had hit her. That meant more Spartans and she still had no backup.

“Chief, no!” The HUD showed two new Spartans markers, one right beside 104 and the other moving fast, but another blur hit her on the side of her head and the display went down. Her ears were ringing as she stumbled back, unable to string together a plan, or even a thought. It was like her brain had stopped working when she saw the Spartan's face. The past she could barely remember was violently clashing with her present world and she couldn't deal with it. Everything was offline and it was going to cost her her life.

“ _Team Leader!_ ” Jason. His voice even sounded far away, though she had no doubt he was running in as fast as he could. He just...wouldn't make it in time. She'd always known her life would end on a battlefield but this? Not being able to kill the enemy because she _knew_ him?! How did she fall this low? “ _Team Leader!!!!!!_ ”

“CHIEF!!!”

Another strike to the same side of the helmet, but this time the armor outright shattered, slicing pieces of metal and glass across her face. The force of the blow threw her to the side, smashing her against the ground so hard she felt another bone snap in her arm and break through the skin. She must have yelled, but she couldn't hear it over the roar in her ears and the screaming of her mind. Everything was a blur, both physically and mentally. When she finally came to a stop, face down in the churned grass, for a long moment she considered not getting up at all. They were going to kill her, so why should she keep trying? Except...Athenians never gave up. Though it killed her to know it, Red and Grey Team were watching and she couldn't let them down more than dying would. Her hair hung down as she slowly pushed herself up with her one good arm, hiding her face from the enemy she couldn't see. She could, however, hear them. Which is how she heard the horrified whisper.

“Klare?”

Looking up sharply, the redhead could barely focus her eyes through the streams of blood enough to see what was happening. Three Spartans, two with helmets on but painfully still; she could almost feel the shock and fear rolling off them. However, what she held her attention was the look of absolute terror on 104's face as he stared at her. His eyes were wide with shock, and that damn memory was bashing at her again. Even with everything else that was happening, she knew him. And the pain on his face...she'd put it there.

Why did that bother her?

Then the Spartan closest to her, the one that had been an inch from killing her, the one with the numbers 117 on the armor, reached up and pulled his helmet off, a frantic edge to the movement that she couldn't understand. The gesture was so sharp, the helmet was flung away and crashed into a tree somewhere, but no one was looking at it. Everyone was focused on the pair; those bright green eyes and electric blue locked together as time came to a crashing, screeching, fiery halt. If Klare thought she'd known 104, it was nothing compared to how she felt seeing 117...Chief.

And apparently he agreed, because he whispered, “Klare?” again. There was so much weight in that one word, an entire history that she couldn't remember. It hurt.

“ _TEAM LEADER!_ ” One second Klare and the Chief had been staring at each other; the next, an immovable black form stood between them. Jason.

“Grey One,” the redhead croaked, startled to realize how dry her throat was. There was the slightest twitch to show he'd heard, but nothing else. All of his focus was on the Spartans before him, knives ready, and they were just focused on him, hands on weapons. Everything was going to explode into a battle if she didn't do something. So, she did all she could. “Help.” That got a much more obvious twitch. She'd _never_ asked for help.

Honestly, she'd thought Jason would take a moment to think things through. He knew the mission, same as her, and he never walked away from an incomplete job. Even when he'd been grabbed by the Spartan at Parangosky's, he'd wanted to finish things. But instead, he spun around without a second's hesitation, scooping her up and running, just barely below flicking speed. There were yells behind them, but he was going too fast for the Spartans to even think of keeping up.

Pain was flaring up and down her body, but Klare just held on as much as she could with one arm. People were yelling over the COMs, but her mind kept circling a single thought. She knew them. She knew him. She was about to kill him, and she knew him. Spartan. 104.

Fred.

At some point she must have faded out of awareness because she didn't notice when they reached the ship or when she was brought aboard. She was, however, painfully aware of when someone touched her face and she lashed out with her good arm. There was certainly contact and she heard a yelp, but then there was a hand holding hers and she recognized the scar across the palm. “Owen.”

“Right here, Team Leader,” came his voice through the pain and blood that was still caked across her face. “We're en-route back to the ship and Orange Team has been alerted, but we need to bandage the wounds we can. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she croaked, trying to relax her muscles but knowing it was almost impossible. If her guard went down anytime in the next month it would be because she was unconscious. However, if Hoskins had taught her nothing else, he'd taught how to function through the pain. For that reason, she remained aware as her Athenians tried to set and wrap her wounds, outright flinching when they had to bandage her entire head to combat the lacerations from her helmet. Really, she needed to talk to Hoskins about that. Clearly, their armor was not up for direct confrontation with the Spartans.

Eventually, she felt the ship slow and spin through the haze of pain, coming down for a landing. She still lay on the floor and felt no desire to move, even if she'd been capable, trapped in the strange state where she knew she was in pain but her body could not process it so she, instead, felt nothing. Hoskins would undoubtedly take her to task for losing, if Orange Team in general and Luke specifically left anything behind, but she couldn't bring herself to care. It wasn't like anyone could hurt her more than her head and heart were already hurting.

“Team Leader!” Frowning under the bandage, Klare was wondering if she was hallucinating. Surely that wasn't Luke. He sounded worried. Although...hadn't she started to accept that her soldiers cared? Even Luke...especially Luke. No...especially them all...god, she was so tired.

There were hands on her and she had to fight the instinct to lash out again. She could feel herself being lifted and laid on something soft; a stretcher? There are voices flying around her and she can't really focus on any, except for a very angry, “Admiral, with this much damage to her face, I'm not sure Team Leader will be able to _see_ again, let alone fight.” She could be blind? “I'll let you know the diagnosis after I actually get a damn moment to treat her. Now move!” No, Luke. Don't anger Hoskins. Please...don't give him an excuse to hurt you.

She could feel the air move rapidly; they were running her through the halls. Shouting ahead; someone clearing the way to medical. For a moment she thinks she can hear Mary, but it passes quickly as a door bangs and she's suddenly alone with the smell of chemicals and the quiet but rapid voices of the doctors. Despite her best attempts, she knows she's losing the battle to stay aware, yet struggles to keep fighting. Then the bandages are being removed from her face and she hears Mary's horrified gasp. That bad, huh? Could Luke be right? Could she truly be...blind? What would happen to her? What would the Insurrection do with a soldier that couldn't fight anymore? Tormented by those thoughts, Klare eventually fell back into mental oblivion, chased by memories of nights under the stars, secrets whispered on ships, and a smile as she decided to spend the rest of her life with...someone.

But who?

 


End file.
